The past is like snow

In the rainy French seaside town, the joys and sorrows of love are staged with music. I will always remember the snow-covered port outside the window and the ice-covered heart of Renavier inside the window. I will always like the touch of sadness in the last scene. The past is like a snowflake, after the snow falls, there is no trace.
Blonde and blue-eyed sweet and lovely small town girl, handsome and kind guy, with a lingering and euphemistic singing like autumn rain. Pure love blooms in the rainy autumn of the rainy Cherbourg, under the gorgeous flower umbrella.
A pair of innocent lovers face an inevitable separation when they are glued together. So, as parting promises, they have each other. The next day, on the way to take the boy to the station, the two were reluctant to part, as if they could not live without each other. The song "I will wait for you" sounded, "Even if it takes a lifetime, I will wait for you to come back; no matter how many summers pass, I will wait for you to come back; until you come back to me, until I Hold you; until I hear you sigh softly in my arms." The train moved away, and the face of the lover was gradually unrecognizable. But the singing is still there "No matter where you wander, no matter where you go; remember that I love you so much every day; please believe me in my heart, I will wait for you to come back with a lifetime." A
lifetime commitment, thinking It is too difficult to obey. Waiting, predicament, misunderstanding, disappointment, despair. The girl's perseverance was exchanged for the boy's death notice, which was also the coldest joke God played with them. She remarried and married another excellent boy who loved her deeply with his child. She was very happy, at least from the perspective of others.
Years later, they met again, on a snowy Christmas Eve, at his gas station. He also met their daughter, that lovely little girl like an angel. There were no excited hugs and kisses, only a faint "Are you okay?" greeting, which he had waited for so many years. In order not to trouble him, she waited for the car to finish refueling and left soon, and he, watching her away, turned around only after seeing that the tracks of her wheels were re-covered by heavy snow. Let that unforgettable memory, like snowflakes, fly in the cold night, and after falling, there is no trace.
The rain in Cherbourg is still falling, and the chaotic umbrellas are still swaying, but the person under the umbrella and the person in the rain are covered with snowflakes by another layer of snowflakes.

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