At the age of half a grown-up, I was led by a teacher who I didn't understand but understood, and lost my way in this environment that was incompatible with me. Looking into your eyes, this simple scene can give me something to look forward to in my heart.
If fog is compared to clouds, will the sky still be blue when morning comes? In the early morning, the fog rises and the sun rises and the fog disperses. If the fog does not rise tomorrow, will the sun rise as usual?
Will she still love him? If we had never met, would we still be who we are?
I don't know what liking means. No one has taught me. I only know that if he stands there and I look at him and don't dare to look at him, then maybe I like him.
As long as the wind keeps blowing
Purpose: Loyal to love her