Leak

About thinking Traveling between thousands of worlds, between busyness and regret, I started to write. I always felt that I had to fulfill the promise I made when I was young. I always reminded myself to start well and end well. I don't know a story about ten years of life and death, a blue bird and a flying fish. It is interpreted in an attitude of asking for nothing, the sadness of being unable to love, without regrets, affectionately, helplessly, desperately, I wonder if the wish at that time can continue? Before her eyes, the familiar objects instantly triggered a flood of memories. She remembered the local souvenirs they bought when they traveled to Tibet together. She remembered that she had written her and his names on it - my star. She wanted to get closer and have a look. In those happy years, a person once walked into her life. Later, she cried all her life. She wanted to take a look at the last version of her. That was it. The familiar handwriting of old times seemed a little hurried. She touched those marks with trembling hands and put them down silently. She knew that at this point, she really should let go, and she wanted to look up again, determined and calm.