Too much love is just too much for me to bear. Him, him, him, or is he? The grievances of the previous generation and the entanglements of the next generation.
I have been wandering all my life, where is my final resting place? Who? Is this someone I deserve to love again?
Power, status, money, am I an exchange object, or am I a flesh and blood body?
If you know too much, you will lose more. Miss, princess, Chakobitun, which one is my true identity?
(Whether it is right or wrong, you have to do it before you know it, and when you know it, it is often difficult to recover.)