From the bottom of my heart I hate a person to hate a thing. Only when the evening breeze blows and everything is undisturbed and sad can you know that one person is important.
When I met him, he was already 23 years old. What I like most is the way he looks in a white shirt. It really represents the bright white moonlight in my heart. But, I was wrong, white moonlight is white moonlight, and it can no longer cross the line.
The city in late autumn was very sad, and my cry was also very sad. After all, the little wish I once had was not realized. The earphones fell into dust and no one saw me again.
When I looked back again, all I could see was the autumn I first met. But I really didn't give up, and I really didn't want to cry. (The heroine has mild social phobia)
Intention: secret love
