In the eighth year of her life, it was the rainy season; she didn't understand love, and because of her cowardice and low self-esteem, she chose to hide in a turtle shell and waste her days and feelings online.
Falling in love again and again, being sad again and again, brought her pain and repetition.
A lie requires more lies to make up for it. I live in my own lies and fantasy every day and never tire of it.
I thought that no matter how much I deceived, my commitment and persistence would never change; but later I realized that I just didn't meet the right person.
At that time, she was still happily disguising herself with lies and fiction, but she would still smile and cry:
"He loves me, but not me; is this joy? Or is it sadness?"