Fifteen years old heh, how beautiful chapters of life, there is a little melancholy, there is a little sadness
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Suddenly one day, a certain turn, accidentally bumped into you.
They smiled at me and then brushed past me in a hurry.
This is the most beautiful encounter I have ever imagined.
And the encounter with you was actually quite ordinary. We met for the first time in preschool.
At that time, you wore a pink plaid skirt with a white shirt and white socks, squatting in the grass and playing with dogwood, you reminded me of the lovely princess in Hans Christian Andersen's book.
The two of us were lucky to be at the same table and be good friends.
I was the silent one, always quiet and stubbornly guarding my own piece of sky. And you are always bright, smiling brightly almost wantonly. My classmates wondered how you put up with my sullenness, and how tough I was to not be tortured to the point of collapse by your chatter.
You always said that we were "childhood friends" and could never figure out whether Sydney was in Europe or Oceania, or that the Wuchang Uprising was not the same thing as the Nanchang Uprising. I finally gave up discussing poetry, history, geography, and politics with you after countless strikes.
So I was always silent, and you were always colorful. You envied my immobility, while I envied your willfulness.
Classmates said they envied the friendship of our two little girls, you arrogantly sang out loud: "We are one like summer, one like autumn, but always turn, winter into spring ......".
To be honest, you sing never a sentence in the tune. I, however, still feel joyful.
Life is always trivial and real. Our friendship seems to be as simple as water, but it's so real that it's almost touchable.
Yes, we are but the most ordinary two people. Maybe there are some edges, but will only be extraordinarily real and will not pinch people. I remember someone said: "If a person is covered with thorns, if it is a beautiful girl, must say that she is a rose, if it is a depressed girl, must say that she is a cactus", and I always think that we are more like the two dogwoods, so ordinary and real company.
You say it doesn't make sense, but I'm extremely insistent.
However, we are not dogwoods after all, and will not be rooted in the same place for the rest of our lives. When the separation came, we were too ignorant to understand that it was something that should be sad. And when I finally got to the age where I knew how to grieve, I was left with only shallow sighs and nostalgia.
The years have passed. You and I don't see each other anymore, and gradually we don't hear from each other. Even if the communication is so developed now, time and space, still inevitably lead to the indifference of the emotion.
I still live quietly. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do that, but I'm going to be able to do it. Occasionally, when I think of your unbridled smile, my heart will have a few thoughts.
Our years, like water flowing east does not return. Like wood decay, at most but poplar, three thousand years, long? Maybe, but there is always a time limit.
A person looking at the sky, I think you are more willing to compare our friendship than yesterday on the white clouds, and will be similar to the aria-like exclamation - look, how much a ball of cotton candy, really want to bite ah.
While I would like to compare our friendship to the gentle fluffy willow flakes that touch each other's memories the moment we meet, tickling and soft.
Thinking of you, my sister. No matter how life changes, I can't forget the childhood playfulness and always want to meet you without fail.