Every period of youth is marked with a trace of sadness that spreads to the horizon. This paradoxical love is destined to be a berth for the ship halfway. This harbor is only temporary but extremely needed. Afterwards, I can only look back speechlessly.
It was just that year that they happened to meet each other, or it was just that year that they happened to like this type, so they liked each other. Therefore, the love of youth is just a passing scene. When it passes, it is gone forever. It is already a fallen flower that cannot be picked up.