The memories are very helpless, just like the sad tears that often come after listening to my past, yours and mine.
Once upon a time, we all had our own roads, which were long, winding, and miserable. The railway track of love is like the rise and fall of the sun and the moon, it still exists and will never fade. We always sit in that cage-like train, hurtling along the tracks. I never thought that the carriages with their sonorous sounds were so charming and could enchant all living beings.
Unfortunately, I was once one of those sentient beings. I was confused by the friction between the tracks and the stations on the roadside, and I was willing to be confused.
I don't have any deep insights about love, but I think you must have.
I just understand that love is something that can make people's hearts flutter, and it can also make people's hearts break.
It is medicine, it can cure disease, it can kill.
At one time, I, and maybe you, were crazy about it. Maybe you are obsessed with it right now.
Many stories are just incomplete fragments of our lives and love stories, just like the memories of your past in your mind now.
So at this moment, I am in the dark room, in front of the dilapidated window, using my words to describe the slender figure wandering alone under the street lamp late at night, with wind and rain. It seems very much like me before.
Tears began to accumulate unconsciously. I doubted whether these tears were my own, because I was very quiet at the moment. It was just this past incident that made me feel inexplicably heartbroken. When the tears had no reason, I chose not to believe it. So, usually, I don't trust my tears.