To love a person, is it really such a happy thing? I don't think so. Maybe we just like that kind of feeling. I live in a quiet and peaceful town. There is no war here, everything is so beautiful, just like a paradise. We met each other and became friends in such a world. Our feelings are crisscrossing. Why are we living? Why were we born here? To get everything by any means, is it really the way to win? I am confused in the successive emotional whirlpool... The story like a cross is unfolded like this--
"I expected I would not love anybody anymore. But after I met her, my life totally changed. I entirely fell under the enchantment of her."
"I knew that I was lying. That was not real me."
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