Library

When the memory is reduced to a piece of paper, then crumpled into a ball, thrown into the burning fire of pain, and endured all kinds of pain. After burning out, it turns into a wisp of ashes. A cold wind blows, it is like the coldness of hell, so ruthless, it only needs a gentle breeze to blow me away, flying all over the sky. That feeling was like being wiped out of this world by a ruthless hand. People say that middle age is the grave of youth. Youth is the most passionate period of growth. When I reach middle age, I will stay alone in the dark and light a cigarette when the night is quiet. With the mist lingering, I recall the past of that era. I searched in the deep sea of ​​memory, trying to find that very familiar reflection, until I felt a sense of suffocation and it became clear. When I looked back, I could no longer find her figure, which became the biggest regret in my life. Running around in the bustling and busy world, I missed a lot and my life. I'm thinking, how wonderful it would be if I could go back in time and start over again...