Have you ever liked someone? Ever since you were young, it has occupied your entire youth?
Every late night chatting, every morning talking on the phone, you really want to say to him gently: I like you.
He is your white moonlight, but you are not his cinnabar mole.
But what does it matter? You just want to like him lightly, just like your name, no waves, only a shallow love.
Intention: Failure to love is the most painful thing