There are all kinds of "etc." in life. There is a kind of waiting, a special existence in life; there is a kind of waiting, can not have, the only right is "wait"...
Wait for the white sideburns, wait for the flowers, wait for the four seasons, wait for the sun and the moon. Reciprocal persistence, let yourself forget the years. The anticipation of reciprocity has caused oneself to lose the sense of pain.
If one day, what awaits is amnesia, should it end or continue? After waiting too long, will the rose planted in the heart still be as bright as ever?