I remember that I only saw her a few times on the balcony of my secret room and in the elevator. She always put her hair up casually and wore a sweater. Every time we met for a few seconds, she looked like a frightened rabbit. Maybe this was her life.
When I met her again, she seemed to have returned from the endless desert, her eyes full of mystery.
Later I learned that she also had a secret room with only one wall and two windows adjacent to her.
She often suffered from insomnia in that secret room, and also went crazy in that secret room.
Intention: Loving someone is a kind of ability, and learning a skill is bound to be bumpy.