Whose Youth Buried My Dream?

There was a period of time when I always had to walk with a group of second-rate people. There is a story in which the protagonist never gets a happy ending at the end. There is such a face that when we look at each other in dreams, I always want to reach out and touch it, but every time, what I encounter is a large area of ​​coldness on the pillow, which then drowns the entire night that makes it difficult to sleep. In this world, everything has been arranged by God in advance, but this is my world. I imagined that here, the people who love each other are finally together, the top students and the bad students are all excited to graduate, and the bastards who have always been by my side to make troubles have a perfect ending to their youth. The ending of this story is decided by me, isn't it? However, who buried my dream at this age?