In memory of my youth:
It's two thousand two hundred and seventy three days, it's seven years, it's countless nights of tossing and turning.
It's nothing special, we are all ordinary people, but ordinary people have loved you for a long time but can't talk about love. It's just a kind of spiritual sustenance.
Later, when I think back, maybe I took a quick glance at you a long time ago and remembered it in my heart. I never expected that I would actually meet you, let alone that you would start talking to me.
I hope that when we meet again, we won't say "Are you okay?" But "How are you?" Just like the first time we met.
Purpose: Retrieve those memories of youth