From the spring of eighteen years old to the late autumn of twenty-nine years old, there is still a season before he will enter the threshold of thirty years old, but he has liked him for so long, so long, why, why doesn't that person look back at him?
One day, maybe he should be grateful, he should even be grateful, that person is broken up in love.
On an afternoon filled with yellow leaves, he said to the man slumped in a chair on the street, carefully wanting to give himself a gift, an opportunity.
"It's been so long, how about we make do with it?"
"Okay" He raised his head and looked at him
"Okay!"
Flash marriage is what they do.
Because of mediocrity, I will constantly long for glory.
Intention: Whoever lets go first, we will not regret it for the rest of our lives.