To find happiness, one must receive the gift of love. Love is the recognition and pursuit of happiness, a blessing from one life to another. Whether it is familial, friendly, communal, or romantic, the myriad forms of love converge into an eternal river of life.
If we cannot be lovers, let us maintain a pure friendship; this is vital for us. I do not wish for those I have loved to become enemies who never meet again; even if we cannot be lovers, sincere friendship remains.
What am I truly waiting for? I do not know, but that faint emotion is gradually turning into melancholy. Every word I write is time etched in memory—a departure without farewell, where nine thousand sheets of plain paper, every one a song of parting sorrow.
However, you can no longer understand my silence; even with thousands of words, you would fail to read my one word of "love." Spring has drifted away, its fragrance falling with the wind; the falling flowers complete your season but fulfill my loneliness.
The spring mist is full of emotion; the March breeze carries a gentle ambiguity against my brow. The March rain whispers tenderness under my umbrella as I walk alone through the blooming flowers, following the footsteps of spring.
When you encounter incomprehensible phenomena and feel confused, truth may already be standing before you, veiled. One with hair on the body needs no clothes, and one with hair on the heart needs no shame. Those who make a mark in an industry are often not the smartest, but those who persevere.