He is like the beauty of the four seasons, and he can't stay. Only those seemingly beautiful memories with him can be preserved. But the better the memory, the more hurtful it is, and the more unforgettable it is.
The beauty of spring and early summer is still repeating itself, but there is no sequel to the story of two people falling in love. At the end of the story, the past events that have been described with all their strength are hidden in the depths of memory and become fleeting. Summer passed, finally ushered in the late autumn leaves. I sigh around in the gloom that yesterday's beauty has gone, and listen to my vows to enjoy the mountains and seas alone.
It turns out that those vows of eternal love and romantic love words are just excuses for us to finally go to the grave of love.
Listen, the snow from winter to the sun is like a falling white elf, which obviously brings the biting cold to the world, but it also deliberately covers up the sad sobs with a delicate appearance, just like the world pretends to be strong without that person, although it knows that it has hurt you.