Red Wine Associations

I just suddenly felt something. I tasted the red wine in my hand and thought of its unique feeling. A bottle of red wine is like a man. Red wine has its brand, its place of production, and its year. A man has his identity, his birth, his experience and knowledge. It is not an easy task to find a bottle of red wine that suits me. Many times I insist on looking for it, but every time I happily open the wine, I find that although the wine is good, it is not suitable for me. I accidentally took a sip at an unknown bar and unexpectedly discovered that it was really the good wine I had been pursuing. However, it disappeared in a flash and I couldn't catch it. I couldn't remember the name. The only thing I remembered was the taste that was still vaguely lingering on my tongue. I don't know when I got a bottle of good wine. The rose red color rippling in the glass attracted my attention, and the pure yet slightly sour taste made my stomach feel so comfortable. Just because of my negligence, I lost it forever, and only the feeling of it lingered in my mind for a long time. Now, when I taste wine again, I make a habitual comparison with the feeling that has always been left in my mind. There are still good wines, but it is no longer that bottle of wine, and no matter how good the feeling is, it is not the feeling that remains deep in my heart. So that feeling became an eternal feeling and stayed in my heart forever. It is very difficult to forget a boy who no longer belongs to you, a boy who is most suitable for you. Just like the feeling of good wine, wine can be lost, but what cannot be lost is that feeling. It will be deeply accompanied by your heart, so at midnight, when you are alone and lonely That feeling will be so clear, as if you have just experienced it, just tasted it, but it is just an idea. The sense of loss that you want to experience but cannot realize comes like a huge wave, eating away at all your thoughts. It is natural to turn it into tears and release it. Forgetting the memories of the past and the good wine I once tasted may be a correct idea, but to me it is just an idea, an idea that I can never realize. So I still reminisce about it at midnight and still vent it with tears.