Everyone has their own love and sees different faces.
Or be ecstatic, or shed tears, or walk on the clouds, or die in hell.
Too many looks, too many endings.
We constantly polish our soft heart, cultivate a hard heart, learn to choose, master the means, and build the heart wall. In this way, the original intention of love has long been lost.
"First love"?
How beautiful, even though it is accompanied by too much greenness, mania, and impulsiveness, we are full of praise for it.
The reason is simply that it opens up a new world in our hearts - love.
A completely blank field, holding hands, a kiss, a burst of laughter, all seem so new and unique, so precious.
But now, what kind of people, what kind of plot, what kind of atmosphere are enough to fill a heart that can't see the end?
I once said to a friend, "I wish I was a goldfish. I only have 7 seconds of memory".
He said "that happiness is only 7 seconds".
I said "enough, there will be a new 7 seconds soon".
The heroine is unfortunate, but she is fortunate, and she is fortunate enough to be envied and envied.
Love, in front of her, will always have only its original appearance.
Life is just like seeing it for the first time, how beautiful it is!
Destined lover:
even if every day is a "new" day;
even if the joy of yesterday has been forgotten;
even if the promise has been submerged by the tide;
even if the favorite face is unfamiliar;
still, I will be with you , hold hands, fall into first love again and again, again and again.
If I forget the world, lose my memory, and lose myself.
What is it, who is it, who will grab my hand, hold me tight, hold me tight, forever.
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