I believe that I will meet so-called likes, but I don't think I am lucky enough to meet love.
People always confuse love with like, but like is common, but love is rare. My envy is true, and my hopelessness is also true.
Seeking tranquility amid blooming flowers, this is the best I can ask for, and it is my signature.
Although I understand that I am luckier than many people, I also feel that many people are much luckier than me, so I often think that it would be great if I were her. This may be the so-called "greed".
The flowers in the south of the city have bloomed. May you always be in peace.
Having someone I can miss is the happiness you give me.
The me who likes you has become different from me, and I don't like that.
Intention: secret love, love but not getting it