I'm still suffering from expectation, and I still miss you in my heart. Your face appears in front of me again and again, still so kind and beautiful, but you can't get close, just like the stars in the sky.

If I were a tear, I would fall on your lips and stay in your heart. If you were a tear in my eyes, I would never cry in my life, because I am afraid of losing you.

Many years later, in the autumn with white clouds hanging in the blue sky, in the afternoon when the sunset loves red leaves, when I reopen your page, I will still feel the wet mark.

The sky loves the earth, but it is too far away from it. Therefore, whenever the sky misses the earth, it will rain cats and dogs.

Secretly look at you, secretly miss you, secretly love you-and finally, secretly cry.

Waiting for rain is the fate of an umbrella.

Love is like a luxurious feast, always dressed up to attend, but the result is always wolfing down. And when the next feast comes, you still have to dress up.

I have been looking for that kind of feeling, that kind of feeling of holding a pair of warm hands and moving forward steadily on a cold day.

Because it is dull, our love sometimes floats away from the original warm harbor; Because of curiosity, our journey will inadvertently turn to a crossroads. Just when you want to turn around, you will hear love crying in a low voice behind you.

When night comes, I still keep my eyes open, because I see the traces left by you in the moonlight.

You know, the boy stands on the left of the girl because it can be closer to her heart.

Life, uniform speed is love, but uneven speed becomes a kind of injury.