Ask the great god to tell me the general meaning of this passage.

The evening breeze is blowing, and the cold is biting. In the past, the yard was as quiet as ever. Where should I look for that familiar face? Who should I tell my helplessness to? My heart is still like a promise to me, and I still hope to be connected with you forever. There is a long road ahead, even if we face each other, there is nothing to say, and the sadness in our chests has not been cut off. I also thought about writing cursive script to relieve my melancholy mood, but I never thought my sadness was more intense. A weak and sickly body is like a weak duckweed in the rain. I don't know, but it's still that kind of sadness. I tried to smile, too. When we did it, we almost made ourselves cry several times. I'm afraid I won't say anything when I meet you later. This relationship, which is constantly being cut and messed up, should be blamed on our lingering (we shouldn't have been lingering at the beginning).

So tired.