Limit 500 words In this spring season, your arrival has made my whole world depressed. Any words in it seem pale and feeble. I pour this subtle feeling into my pen again and again, just trying to make it clearer and closer. In vain, this feeling of distance is like the back in a dream every time, vague, sad and untouchable, but every time I wake up, the dull pain in my heart is so real. The moonlight pouring down along the bedside, my eyes stay on the bright moon that accompanies me every night. It seems that only it understands my loneliness and longing. I can't help but make me whisper, I miss the bright moon and wonder when the bright moon will shine on me again. I was eighteen years old that year...