You can say that I am writing with my body, my heart is the engine of my body, and my hands are the extension of my heart. There were also tears mixed with it. The tear glands had dried up, so they rolled out of the blood vessels and turned into bright red and warm blood. Running wildly, the face changes with each passing day. I couldn't bear to collect them, so I gave them all to her. All the sweetness and warmth can be squandered by her. All that's left is the smiley face in my mirror. It's me who is cold, but I met her...