Library

Youth is like a hastily written diary. The handwriting blurred by tears, the torn and pasted pages, and the sentences that ended abruptly in the middle of writing have become the most touching chapters. We have all lost important people in the sunset on the playground, written wrong answers on monthly exam papers, and practiced confessions we never dared to say in front of the mirror. These regrets are not shortcomings, but creases deliberately left by time - when you read it again many years later, you will find that it is those unfinished commas that make it possible for the story to continue to grow. Just like the most beautiful moment of cherry blossoms is not in full bloom, but in the moment of hesitation when they are drifting in the wind.