It was the early morning of the 309th day. That would probably be the last time I saw him. I didn't react at all until he left. I didn't realize that when I looked at his face or eyes seriously, I didn't realize that the person who made the ruthless decision to leave was really me. The days are like an elusive deer, it runs through the fields and woods, moving silently in its own direction, never paying attention to the people and scenery around it. No matter how much I want to grab it, cover it with a net, and desperately want to leave any memories, it will use its lively and naughty hooves to wipe out everything that has happened. As for people, as they grow up, their hearts will become harder and harder, and they will become more and more numb and comfort themselves. But like a willow tree with burrs, it looks stronger and taller day by day, and there is already an empty night inside. The warmth of his face and his embrace, at a certain moment when I was desperately trying to recall something, blurred into a sharp fog, hurting my eyes and causing them to leak out some useless warm liquid.