Not every sprout will bloom, and not every process will bear fruit. Looking back a few years later, I can see that those things I did without sparing any effort and being cautious when I was young were the first signs of my love. A person's memories are like a cup of fine coffee, savored slowly, sometimes bitter or sweet, sometimes crying or making trouble. It is these absurdities, these sincerities, these ironies that form our growth path. When we grow up, do we treasure the coffee here? Or just dismiss it and abandon it like a shoe? ,
This is a hazy story, this is a grand love. This is also a story about growth and protection. There is sweetness and sadness, laughter and crying, perseverance and giving up.
Intention: Gains and losses in the process of growth