In the past, the loss of love would not exceed three days, let alone more than one winter.
We are always able to get closer to each other in the loneliest and coldest moments, like two parts that are missing in each other's lives, always wanting to be close and never thinking of leaving.
But then, everything that happened afterwards was miserable.
Later we didn't have any relationship, and we didn't have any results, but we were always able to see you easily in anything, anywhere.
The more you grow up, the more you understand how outrageous the things you envisioned as a child are, and the more outrageous things are, the easier it is to give up.
Growing up is really good, knowing what things can be done, what things can not be done, knowing what things will have results, knowing what things will not be fruitful, but I miss my childhood very much, even if I know that one thing will not have results, I will dare to do it, and I will dare to fight.
Little by little, my body was dominated by money, believing only in money and occasionally fantasizing about omnipotency.
You say I'm not good, it's really not good, smoking, drinking, going to the Internet café occasionally crazy and crazy, picking flowers and weeds, in the eyes of others, the little prince.
You say that I am okay and seem to be a little bit better, will turn over and over in the middle of the night to miss the person who has died in the dream, will stare at something for a long time without a word, will think of her over and over again in my mind, recall every time I have been with her, every beautiful thing, will firmly believe that it is my love, even if it has passed...
When I close my eyes I can always think of many, many things about you, and when I am ready to tap the screen, I always can't knock out a few words, maybe this is the best result, the pain has to be kept to myself, some people can only stay in the memory, beautiful or sad, no matter what can only be hidden.
Later, I, alone through round after round of winter, I no longer expect you to appear again, nor do I expect anyone to bring me warmth, nor do I want to know how you live, I hope that one day, I can forget you, just like forgetting that we have all become the light, the night is long but also very short, like not like the love between us, long and short.
END
The Ministry of Friendship | sad literature
Image | source network (intrusion and deletion)
The author | Zhao Xiaojun