A poet once said that there is one story, and only one story, worth telling in detail.
I think that in my short 19 years, there are many things worthy of praise, those sweet and sour memories, the dark blue sky, the crimson beach, and the pleasing eyebrows.
But there is only one thing, I can only hide it deep in my coat pocket, and only dare to take it out carefully in the crowded crowd of strangers, kiss it gently, and leave my hands full of forgetfulness.
It is the light that I can't bear to love all my life.