I often sigh for the withering of a leaf, often marvel at the moment when colorful butterflies fly, and often feel like a girl in the crowd, wandering around at midnight, tossing and turning. That spring encounter, that moonlight, that night of concern. With the dream to pursue, under the warm sunshine, the original love appears in the memory. As time goes by and the dandelions fly by, they can only be hidden in dreams and engraved in the heart, not daring to let more people know.
As spring comes and summer comes, the lights turn on and off. How many times have I lost myself in the vast sea of ??people. How many times have I touched my dry soul in a strange land. At the crossroads where you come and go, you encounter countless passers-by, countless scenery, flying clouds and birds, and the fragrance of fallen flowers. And I, wandering all over the place, my figure is lonely, the breeze blows across my vicissitudes of face, in the vast world, where can I find comfort, where can I find the tears of lovesickness, where can I find the stories in dreams. That beautiful first love, that innocent smile, that warm farewell, that powerful encouragement. After walking through spring, through the scorching heat, through late autumn, in the winter wilderness, think about the past, stroll through the present, and mention the past encounter again in the future diary.
There have been so many dreams that cannot stop the footsteps of time. That year, when we were young, we went to the same middle school, had the same Chinese teacher, and ran together under the blue sky, but you had your direction and I had my dream. My classroom is next door to your class. Every time after school, you would quietly take a look at our classroom and smile lightly at me. Every time I was thirsty, you would bring me a bottle of Amon Mountain Spring. But I was very shy, so I could only lower my head and pretend to look at the book, not daring to look at your face. Because you are the goddess in my heart, just like the ice in my hand. If I look at you one more time, I am afraid that it will melt away in an instant and disappear without a trace.
That year, we went to the same university, did military training on the same playground, bathed in the sun, walked in the drizzle, listened to the birds, and felt the changes of the four seasons. I was standing behind you, but you didn't notice my concern. Through countless coincidences and endless relationships, I finally knew your thoughts, and you also left a place for me in your heart, but I remained silent and smiled at you, leaving you embarrassed and sad for a long time.
That year, spring came over the campus, and we traveled far together, climbing to the top of the mountain. The place closest to our dreams, you said you liked me too, sitting under the sunset, looking down at everything, the sky, The plains and streams are all vibrant scenes, and they all carry my excited heart. However, something unexpected happens and something happens in your family, and you have to go back to deal with it. Once you leave, you never return to campus because you are the boss of the family. Later, I married a stranger, leaving me alone, wandering around the empty campus, missing and caring about you, while my first love slipped away with the stream, and I could never find your shadow again. Those beautiful things, those dreams under the sunset, can only be hidden in dreams and engraved in the heart.
The vast ocean I once owned, the love I once dared not express, the scenery I once missed inadvertently. Like clouds floating by, there is beauty, reluctance, and concern. That wisp of spring neon is floating quietly in my heart. The past memories of spring flowers and autumn moon spread in the small palm, containing the traces of time, but it can no longer cover up the colorful and shy love, tumbling in the small heart. Those dense thoughts are exposed in the sun, staring at the misty years, the past brushes, autumn conversations, winter laughter, but they are just a thousand years of attachment, drifting with the flow, meeting each other and being at peace.
I often dream that I am smiling at the port of time, laughing at my own ignorance, the helplessness of life, and the wasted years. Gazing at the fate that once existed, the afternoon when the fingers were intertwined, the night when the stars were counted carefully, now, it is vividly displayed on the paper. It is interesting to miss it again, and it is intoxicating to care about it again. At that time, two ignorant hearts could actually intersect. You like poetry, I like prose; you like traveling, I like photography. But now, the photos are still there, the camera is still there, but you are a wife.
The seasons change and the Milky Way stars move. I once tried to find a wave to flow for you, a bright moon to give you joy, a cloud to float for you, and a picture album to draw you. Those dreams ignited with tears, the memories that have passed away, stir the beautiful melody deep in the heart. Drinking from the wine glass of longing, sitting on the melancholy path, the eternal love is hidden in the dream after meeting.
I used to worry about the fate of a lifetime, and once let go of the footprints of a spring. The dazzling warmth blooming on the back, accompanied by the green love, in the river of life, consult the encyclopedia, use the plain pen, take the paper and ink, carve it like a poem, hide it in your dream, and never forget it.