The distance between two strangers brushing past each other in the city is infinitely close to one hundred percent. Whether it's the dazzling brilliance of love or the luminous ideal, when faced with reality, there is an unintentional careful avoidance. Even if separated by just a small alley, even if only by a door, they often do not interact, as if this is the norm of life. When I was young and reading books, I understood that ideals are often not persistent, and romances often don't last long. But the protagonists in the books, after enduring hardships, eventually still have a clear ending, whether success or failure, always making themselves and others aware. In life, the main characters sometimes never meet from the prelude to the epilogue; life's ideals not only can't be realized, but sometimes are even distorted into another shape. Waking up alone in the city where I live, I often feel that after walking for a long time, the surroundings haven't changed, but my eyes have become blurred first. The idealistic enthusiasm of the campus seems so strange now, the weather forecast in Huaihua, and those things that were once indifferent are now crazily important. At the end of sight, the endpoint is missing. Sometimes ideals are so close, some life trajectories almost intersect, but in the end, mostly, they are almost. In fact, many people share the same ideals, many people live the same lives, and many people don't become friends simply because they haven't met yet. It seems that nothing can bring space and time closer, bringing together those who hold the same ideals and stay awake all night...