I don't know if he is my favorite person.
Just looking back at the past, I always firmly believe this in my mind for no reason: If I have my own grandchildren in the future, I will watch them grow up. Then one day, maybe in the afternoon or in the evening, they will run towards me in the sunshine and pester me to tell me about some past things, then the thing I want to mention most must be about him - as if from the beginning to the end, he only belongs to me.
Concept: The people we love most may not be the ones who leave the deepest mark on our lives.
