It must have been the coldest love I've ever seen in this world
At first sight, she is still a young girl, he has matured and elegant, he is a newly moved neighbor, not only moved to the next door, but also moved to the heart of a young girl who has just opened her heart, so her love sprouted from this, and every intentional or unintentional encounter when the hurried glance was the rain and dew of this love budding sunshine, later, she moved away, the story was suspended, her love, but it did not stop growing...
Growing up, she tried every means to return to his side, and finally walked into his room that she had longed for, and, lying beside him, had a child of her own, and then, the prodigal son of the love scene easily withdrew and forgot her in the sea of people, of course, he did not know that they had a child, he did not know, she was the girl who lived next door many years ago.
The third time they met, she was mature and charming, in order to raise their children, she became a socialite in high society, he was still elegant, lingering among various women, so she once again lay on his pillow, he did not recognize the woman who had woken up next to him, and he did not know that she was the girl who had once been, really a goldfish-like man, probably his memory was only the seconds when lust broke out...
The fourth time, she died, he received her letter, looking at the vase without white roses on the table, he vaguely remembered something, a long and long letter, wrote her life, wrote her humble love to the dust, did not know whether this man would have a little sadness after knowing everything, after knowing that there was a woman who gave birth to an excellent son for him, and this child who carried love would not have a trace of heartache when he died of illness, looking back on this relationship, would there be a trace of remorse...
Or, he will still feel at ease, will continue to linger in the flowers, continue to be charming, after all, women have never said anything, what to live, from the beginning of love, until the end of life, has always been a person's one-man show, she loves like a moth to the fire, regardless of the body, so weak and so brave, at the end of life, should also feel unwilling to let it, this scene of the one-man show to him, is to gamble again whether he cares about himself, the answer may not be important to her, She didn't give herself the chance to know the answer, just left him and the world with a stubborn back.
I loved you until the end of my life, but my love has never been about you.