I have imagined countless times that one day, even if I cannot climb up to its grandeur and sit and watch the wind blowing and the clouds rolling, I will still walk here to find an angle to look up at its peace and perseverance, and see how this deep snow buries the hopelessness and unwillingness in my heart.
But when I really embarked on this strange journey, feeling lonely all the way, and seeing the cold and bitter weather, I discovered that it turns out that even just a few rays of the setting sun between my fingers are a kind of relief, just like the warmth of your coat, like the smell of tobacco tar on your collar.
It turns out that I miss you, I miss you so much, I miss you so much that I can't bear to let go.
But, I'm sorry, I'm afraid it's my fault this time, even though I never gave up for a moment...