In the days when the wind has passed away, I can smell the fragrance of your hair that remains, and the rain is falling. If you are not happy, if you are not happy, then let it go; if you are reluctant to let it go, then it will be painful. I now know that you can still love someone if you don't understand them. Only now do I understand that you can miss someone even if you don't love them. There is a bifurcated road ahead of love. A passer-by, what do you choose? I can't count the sorrows of the past, but now, how can I even think of the word "sorrow"?
