That year, I did not forget you.

 　　I can't help but feel heartbroken and shed tears, still afraid that the feeling of those wild days will slowly fade away. I release kites high into the sky, chasing the dreams of my youthful recklessness, but I can't hold them in my hand. I watch the howling wind relentlessly rage, tearing at my heartstrings; we both once thought we were powerless.

　　I pause, gazing at the children playing and frolicking on the playground. I follow those familiar eyes, hoping to awaken those long-lost memories and that fleeting moment of heart-fluttering excitement. I only hope our steps can merge into one, hoping we can walk together through life, hoping we can reunite someday, hoping we can still laugh and play, still able to greet each other warmly: "All these years, do you still remember me? I haven't forgotten a thing!"

　　Years later, will these children still remember their laughter and play?

　　Ultimately, we must begin to get used to life apart, learning to say goodbye with a smile. With each parting, what remains will become less and less, but also more and more important. These peaceful years have been so peaceful because you were there with me, allowing us to reminisce about the classes we took together. That year, I didn't forget you all; do you still remember that there was once a teacher standing on the podium?

　　I'm here! We are still here.