From the day the plane left Chongqing, I no longer belonged to the place that had raised me for twenty-four years. From Hiroshima to Tokyo, five years have left tattoos on my body. I don't belong here, but I can't leave here.
When the depression improved, my grandmother passed away.
When the person I loved with all my heart left me on the roadside, I met a man who was willing to take care of me for the rest of my life.
Now, I finally dare to count the years.
Conception: