Your Time

I looked at these photos for a long time, and slowly, I understood them all. In this imperfect world, the first half of my life is just an indispensable story. The people in that story were heading for a rugged and unknown track, and they looked like today's first snow, blooming and very silent. They warmed me while using their souls tortured by loneliness to get closer to happiness step by step. I choked up occasionally, but never managed to say "Thank you." They loved me so deeply. I often look for the years when we grew up together and learned that they had gotten the time they wanted. I'm happy for them.