I always remember that rainy day, when he was squatting and kneeling in the rain, his hair sticking tightly to his scalp, and raindrops were winding along his hair on his face. His eyes were open blankly, and water flowed across his face. I should have walked away, but somehow I stretched out my umbrella to cover him, and the fate that was supposed to be broken was reconnected. It would be great if I could do it all over again. I could confess to him, and I could also accept the sadness after being rejected, but I must not interfere with his life on my own initiative in the name of love. People still have to live a more sensible life. Maybe in ten or twenty years, when I see him again, I can say calmly, I once loved him, that's all. Unfortunately, there is no if.
Conception: