I am twenty this year. Looking back on these twenty years, it feels like forty years have passed. I have tasted all the joys and sorrows in this life.
If I could go back to that afternoon eight years ago, I would definitely not let you escape to take a nap, thus saving you eight years of wrongful thinking.
No, if I could go back to eight years ago, I would go through this again, see the boy in the wheelchair again, and say to him: There will be a girl who will love you stupidly for eight years until you get married.