Passing away · beauty


The rain in my ears kept beating on the window coffin. I sat alone on the bus and quietly looked out of the window. Suddenly, tears came down from the traffic, strange people and the streets I had seen countless times.

Maybe the crowded crowd on the bus made me uncomfortable, maybe the depression that I haven't seen for a long time suddenly broke out, maybe something reminded me of my memory. I even sobbed quietly on the bus. I didn't want to be seen, so I could only make the music solidify my tears.

The crowd on the bus rushed to different places with a knife. I don't know where they are going, and I won't ask. The direction is different. It's also a white question. There will be a moment when they arrive. It's better not to know each other than not to give up when they leave.

A burst of familiar music suddenly sounded in my ear: your gray image won't beat any more. Even a simple greeting turned out to be the ringing tone of a passenger's call. Then I trembled in my heart and felt that this song was really sad for the first time.

The rain was getting heavier and heavier. I had no direction, and I didn't know where to go. Listening to the passengers' complaints, my thoughts were pulled back to the past.

Juan, do you think we will be like this after graduation? One day Feng asked me. I said: of course! We are good friends for life! The wind tooted his mouth and said: why only for a lifetime? Because we want to be good sisters in our next life. Feng and I looked at each other, smiled and quarreled with each other. In fact, we all know that no matter how good we are, we will inevitably be separated, but we don't want to admit it.

It's just that this day came so fast that we were caught off guard. I clearly remember that it was the morning of June 20. The high school entrance examination had just ended. You came very early, and the sun seemed particularly bright. At the same time, in the same place, you were so lovely. It seemed as if time went back to the past, you could repeat our three years over and over again, and you could finish the dream that only belonged to the flowering season together. But now you and I are obviously a little less naive and more mature. Time flies like a white horse, a rabbit walks and a bird flies. It is also like a racing car that never waits. The only thing left is the souvenirs displayed in the glass cabinet and some fuzzy memory fragments.

What is gone is gone, and what is left will eventually leave, but I still can't learn to be strong. I will still miss her silently, or hide secretly in the quilt one night while remembering and sobbing, or silently miss those childhood partners who spent with me. I am not willing to put everything down and reluctant to give up after all.

Maybe you will meet such a person in your life, and you and she will never be able to meet, but it is said in those years that we may be together in another parallel time and space, and we are still good friends. There are always so many regrets in my life. If I can, I hope I don't know her, so I still don't understand friendship, and I'm still the very simple and naive me. Growing up in me is so cruel. I always meet the right person at the wrong time, but lose the best things. Maybe it's perfect because of deformity, so I don't have to be sad or miss.

I don't know how many separations there will be in the future, and how many hearts and lungs will be torn. If we meet again, I won't let go of your hand again!

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