Youth is like a station platform in the works of 1980s writers; it will inevitably arrive and eventually depart, settling into the most beautiful scroll of our memories.
Epigraph
God is fair, for He has assigned a guardian angel to stand by each person's side.
Those of us in our youth always dream of a romance that does not truly belong to us. Even if we end up scarred, we are willing to devote ourselves foolishly. That hazy, flower-bud stage of life is perhaps destined to be spent in pain. Life may be, as Shakespeare said: When you like me, I don't like you; when you fall in love with me, I like you; when you leave me, I fall in love with you. Was it that you walked too fast, or that I couldn't keep up with your steps?
Life is fleeting, lasting only a few decades. While we are vibrant and full of energy, why waste our time on a love that isn't ours? Perhaps only by letting go of that so-called 'true love' can we find genuine happiness.
When we are lost, when we are sad, and when we are happy, there are always two fools by our side. That place is our eternal harbor of refuge.
On some street corner, there may still remain memories too painful to recall, memories we do not wish to forget.
When dreams shatter, I strive to gather the fragments, hoping to piece them back together. Yet, no matter how hard I try, the fragments slip through my fingers like water. It turns out that not everything can be started over just through effort.
Ignorant in our youth, and hazy in our understanding. As the wheel of happiness turns, if we close our eyes, we may just find our own beloved carrot.