"On the upper reaches of youth, white clouds fly away, gray dogs and seagulls." That sky, when it belonged to us, was still blue and dazzling; now, it has wiped away the dirt of loneliness, let go of the clenched hands, and inherited our tenderness. But it has become another time and space in memory; do you still remember it? We held hands easily back then, but now, we are terrified, just because of the disappearing tenderness and the pain of being trapped. Separation is no longer a sin, like you said, I just know more.