I met him in the summer and lost him in the winter. The beginning of the story is not surprising, and the end of the story is not regrettable either. He accompanied me through three seasons, the dusk of summer, the fallen leaves of autumn, and the unforgettable cold of winter. Although I haven't witnessed the flowers blooming in spring yet, I am already content. He will stay in my memory until he disappears into the trivial life, and will become a memory. Occasionally, I can smile lightly when I think of it. P. S. My youth was dull, with no vitality, no hope, and no earth-shattering and fearless rebellion. The timid, timid, and autistic me in my youth did not dare to make any waves. Even some small waves are enough to give me the scares. Mediocre can only be described as mediocre. Spring without color base is not even bright sadness. I don't know what to use to recall that past. I want to use this book to make up for the lost color of my youth. A tribute to my ordinary yet extraordinary youth.
Intention: Youth is fading away, you are passing away.
