Note: This article was written a long time ago and was only published recently due to personal reasons. This is my first post and I am not proficient in all aspects. It is adapted from personal real events. It has a long recall period. I don't understand the layout without an outline (prepare for improvement). It may not be updated and it will be dropped randomly.
Until I was drawn to a conclusion, I always considered myself a melancholy. I once loved someone, and we loved each other passionately. But melancholy people are good at messing up things. I chose to push you away, and you gave up on me and became the quagmire moon that once hung the hem of my clothes on the tip.
Purpose: Don't be in a hurry to meet your redeemer. The only one who can heal yourself is yourself.