She had always been timid, although he never thought so.
She always smiled, but only to him.
She always took the trouble to explain to him mathematical problems that were sacred to him, but he took it for granted.
She always agreed to his unreasonable requests, but he thought they were good friends, which was how they should be.
In the process of giving again and again, she was too timid to tell him, and he didn't realize it because it was too rough.
Love spreads in life, but he never realizes that he has long been accustomed to her, and has long been inseparable from her. She has already penetrated into his bone marrow, and she has already penetrated into his spirit. Whose fault is it? He thought that he did not love her, and she thought that everything was just a loss.