I have a unique lover.
My lover is not a human being, to be precise - my lover is a recording pen, or in other words, he lives in the recording pen. What a strange description, forget it, do you want to hear my story?
I have a lover who loves me very much... Maybe. If he didn't just talk about it, but actually took action, I might be more convinced that he loves me. But it's a pity that no matter how angry I say I don't believe it, he has no chance to prove it.
According to the conclusion I have drawn from reading so many small abuse articles, this passage is like the autobiography of a poor protagonist who died unexpectedly after being let down by a scumbag. In fact, it was completely the opposite. It was my lover who died. It's a really unique story, right?
He really loves me, and I can tell you very responsibly that this is not a love brain attack. I am just stating a fact - at least a person who doesn't love you cannot drive to a 24-hour fruit shop in the middle of the night to buy strawberries for you just because you say you want to eat strawberries. It sounds ridiculous, but it actually happens.
I don't think I said his name yet? I'm so sorry, the last time I called his name was so far away that it seemed like a lifetime ago. As for the reason? I'll tell you later, if you can finish listening to my story, although it seems easy to guess... Okay, I'm going off topic again. His name is Song Yuan, and his thoughts are far away.
Um? You ask me? I'm just a storyteller, my name is Donna.
Purpose: Everyone can find their own meaning
