Many years later, I opened the notepad she gave me. There was no word in it, but I saw countless memories, surging like a tide.
I returned to the campus and tried to find her shadow at a certain corner, but the people coming and going were all young, and I realized that our story had ended a long time ago, like a kite with broken strings, flying to nowhere.
Life is not a movie. How can we not meet again for so long? Many times after saying goodbye, we really never see each other again.
Intention: When love is a thing of the past