I have never understood why I have to be cautious about secret love, how uncomfortable it is to hold it in my heart, and why I have to consider his opinion in everything I do. I look down on secret love.
But when I experienced it, I looked down on myself.
Happy because of him, sad because of him.
Liking is really a matter of a moment. It is easy to like but difficult to forget.
On the day of graduation, I suddenly felt relieved. In his world, I was just a stranger who had never spoken a few words, an inconspicuous little character.
I tore up all his photos and threw them into the sky, where they were naturally blown away by the wind.
The photo was blown away by the wind, and so was my love.
Intention: Secret love will never come to fruition.