Secret love is a beautiful mistake, just like the lilacs in the rain in April, knotted with the sorrow of one's own mood. The sorrow of separation makes thousands of threads tangle, and the clouds are flying in the east road.
The reason why it is beautiful is that you can weave a dream for yourself, right? Like a hard-working little spider weaving a crystal net, what is the prey of this net? Empty net, aching heart. If you admit it, stick yourself to it. Every day, let yourself stay in the Internet, read, think, fall in love, feel pain, feel sweet, and wait quietly - maybe this wait really needs to be as long as tens of thousands of years, what can be done? He thought with a wry smile, maybe he owed it to him in his previous life, and he would have to repay it with pain in this life.
The reason why it is beautiful is that it can be hidden from him, right? Of course, once he knows it, it will naturally no longer be a secret love, at least not such a pure secret love, and there will naturally be more friction between you and me, grinding back and forth, and even the most delicate thoughts will be roughened. After all, this ending is not what people want!
The reason why it is beautiful is that it can remain unknown, right? Every day I am worried, every day I am thinking, in the hourglass of time, those thousands of cold little things, thin and dense, silently draw bloodshot lines on my heart. Others cannot see them, they are only behind your calm eyes and under your smiling face. Invisible to others.
What makes it beautiful is that you can enjoy the wonderful feeling of sweetness and pain alone, right? Really, who says pain is not sweet? Then he must have never sipped coffee or tasted tea... Which of the tasteful things in the world is not a mixture of sweet and bitter? When that bit of bitterness slowly slides down the back of your tongue, and when that bit of sweetness soaks the tip of your heart softly... Well, who else can you complain about?
Conception: