Story in Paper

Lately I have often wanted to write down some scattered scenes. What I remember is mostly just the daily life related to my lover, as well as some old memories that should have been forgotten long ago. This shadow has been lingering in my heart for a long time, sometimes under the lamp, sometimes in a dazed moment, and I can't tell whether the past me is coming or the present me is returning. People always say that you have to look forward, and I agree. However, even if the footsteps behind you are shallow, messy, and even despicable, if you don't look back, even the "forward" steps you are taking now will be in vain. As for her, she is like a clear boundary in my chaotic world. Her words and her laughter are very ordinary to me, but in this very ordinaryness, I can see my own pedantry and reluctance. I will write these rambling words here together with those fragmentary memories. It's not to seek resonance, but just to leave some traces of this "person's" life, so that onlookers, whether traveling the same way or not, can have a resting place.