He and I are two apples.
I am a red apple that is about to mature, and he is a green apple that is still a little astringent.
Even if it is green, it still has the unique sweetness of apples, but I am different. I am a rotten fruit from the bottom of my heart.
To put it more clearly, he will still grow, he will still be admitted to a key high school, and he still has hope. And I'm just a rotten fruit in a good shell. I don't have so much hope and future, and I don't have that kind of vitality.
He is the green apple on the tree, and I have rotted in the ground.
…
I am very happy that after nearly twenty days I finally heard his voice.
I am both happy and sad.
The knife called love is cutting at me, and it is cutting into my heart.
…
I am an incompetent sister and I am in love with my younger brother.
…
Don't look at it, the green apple is already ripe and picked by someone else, and it is as rotten as me.
Intention: Love without getting it