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Youth will always fade with time. When we are young, we are always looking forward to growing up. When we are older, we are always immersed in childhood memories. The desks in the class are getting worn out and the chalk is getting shorter. It seems that the boy in our memory will never leave. Under the cherry blossom tree, you look back, as if you have only seen it for a thousand years. I fluttered into your arms like a butterfly, but I didn't know that it was our last beauty. Hello! Have I never told you: i like you