In the past, if people had secrets they couldn't tell others, they would go to the mountains, find a tree hole, and whisper their secrets into it. Then they would seal the tree hole so that no one else would know.
However, after finishing the story, I couldn't calm down and tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep.
"Will someone recognize me? Will anyone know it's me?" These questions lingered in my mind.
How can I describe that story? It's simply a story of liking him, but he didn't know. Isn't that how unrequited love is? Whether he knew or not didn't matter; as long as I liked him, that was enough. I never told anyone, keeping that initial spark of attraction hidden deep inside.
How can I describe that story? I think I really should find a stranger to tell that story.
The internet is a giant tree, and that stranger is the hole through which it receives the message.
Looking at the private message from someone I don't follow, "You're in Menglong's Dreams," my brain went through the above thoughts.
Just say it, it's nothing anyway.
"I'm an online writer who enjoys recording people's various stories. I'm very interested in your story, which is why I sent you this private message. I have a request, and I don't know if you'd be willing to listen to it," the blogger said.
"Hello, my tree hole."
"I'm happy to be your confidant."
A message came from the other end; perhaps something is quietly changing.