Some things always have to be said goodbye to, even if they are reluctant to part with them. Maybe as I grow older, I will gradually forget how I feel now, I will also sink into the impetuous present, and I will also learn to abandon my sensitive thoughts. So, while I was still naive, I tried my best to write down my feelings.
This is probably a story for my own entertainment, written for myself and never for others.
No one except me has such a story in their memory.
Maybe they forgot, or maybe they never remembered.
Eight years ago, which is buried in memories, let me modify it a little and tell it softly.
Intention: "I can't tell the difference between illusion and reality, and it's even harder to conceal the desires in my heart."