The moon quietly came to visit. I could still hear the cicadas outside the window, but their song was nothing like the clamor of that year.
Those were the three years I remember, the best years of my life.
Everywhere I once wandered is worth seeking out, but where can I search now? Nowhere but in the heart of a young person...
Back then, we had dreams: about literature, friendship, and traveling across the world.
We were young, proud, and ambitious, determined to go wherever life took us. We said the world was so vast, surely there would be a place for us, surely we would have a chance to make our mark. We promised to meet at the summit and drink beneath the moon. How carefree and at ease we were.
I had friends who shared my ideals, and teachers.
But now I can only follow the crowd, helpless and at a loss. They drift farther away, slowly vanishing into the sea of people until I can no longer see them.
My friends' radiant smiles and my teachers' proud, relieved gazes keep appearing before my eyes.
I still remember our snowball fights, working together to bring glory to our class, crying together, laughing together.
At that moment, I could no longer hear the cicadas. Only then did I suddenly realize how much time had passed.
It was like a dream, like a dream.
As if waking from a dream, as if waking from a dream.
So much time has passed…
Theme: Growing up
