Listen to the Sound of Flowers Blooming

Will youthful frivolity eventually lead to happiness or something else? We chase our dreams together, fall together, and then get up together... I always think that with your company along the way, we will reach the end of life together, but there are too many forks in the road and you will inevitably get lost. Will you shrink back? Are young vows ultimately forged by sticking to them or something else? Let's make a promise together, look forward to it together, and then witness it together… I always think that you will be with me along the way and we will reach the other side of life together. However, if there are too many countercurrents, it will inevitably be difficult. Will you persevere? When we are young, we cannot bear the word "love" and would rather choose to use friendship to explain everything. However, there will always be all kinds of rumors that cause constant suspicion and curiosity, and in the end it becomes a three-person tiger. Is that love? Or possession? Young admiration is the purest expectation, but will first love be the final destination? How much purity is left in this world, and how much is there to hold on to? I wait until the next time the flowers bloom, but I can't wait for you. As everyone knows, there is a thread that brings us together, but you are on this side and I am on the other side. You and I, who have been entangled by love and hate for a long time and are almost suffocated, can we still find the original you and me in the gaps in this vast sea of ​​people? Close your eyes and you can hear the sound of water drops, footsteps, breathing, laughter, sighs, the jingle of keys, the rustle of falling leaves, the squeak of clothing, the tick of the second hand... Only one sound is missing - the sound of flowers blooming. Legend has it that every flower is formed by the condensation of a woman's pure and crystal tears. So how long does it take for a flower to bloom? One second, one hour, one day, one month, one year, one century, or... A distance as distant as the passage of time? I raised my head and caught a glimpse of the dark corner. The night was deserted and completely silent. Even though it was a rare flash in the pan at this moment, the fragrance of tuberose filled the air and entered my heart bit by bit, but my heart was still full of loneliness and desolation. He stretched out his hand, hoping to feel a touch of warmth, but what he encountered between his fingers was only endless coldness. Without your warmth in the palm of my hand, even if the promise was once made, the vows made now are just frozen bit by bit. Actually, you know what? Pulling the hook sometimes means letting go, when I can't give you the happiness you need. Do you still remember the little daisy you gave me? I promised you eternal happiness, but you disappeared from the story of happiness. The so-called happiness is only incomplete happiness. No matter which direction the journey is in the distance, there are the first dreams there, and there are also the last beliefs. Those awakenings from the deepest part of life are like a flower eager to bloom the most intense buds in life, making a harsh neighing sound. They projected such signs of turmoil in my world, just because of the entanglement of love and hate.