You don't cry with anticipation
Author: Heartfelt Month
You don't cry with anticipation. - Caption
The face will grow old, the four seasons will not stop, in those scattered time, there is struggle, there is laughter, there is singing; there are tears, there are sobs, there are farewells. Saying goodbye doesn't have to be sad, for example, my goodbye to her has become full of expectations.
She is my hair small, enjoy the flowers blossom and fall together, watch the clouds cirrus cloud Shu hair small, never separated. Until that time she said to me, "Qing, I'm going to my grandmother's house to study." I suddenly felt as if I was missing a piece, and even the favorite snack in my mouth was suddenly out of flavor: "When are you leaving?" I asked eagerly. A week later, my parents said they should go early so they could get used to it. She thought about it a little and said.
I expect that during the week of parting, I will stay with her anytime and anywhere, accompany her to climb the hill next to her home, and take her to catch her favorite beetles. But time is always rushing, like a child who has just left school, eager to run into the house. Seven days, not long, not short, were over.
The night before the farewell, we lay together on the cement slope in front of our house, looking up at the bright summer stars, and on that night, even the most inconspicuous stars were trying to shine their own light, quietly waiting for the moon to come. "If they hadn't waited for the moon, or if the moon had left, they would have cried, right?" I muttered. "No, they will continue to wait until the moon returns, how can they cry?" You don't cry with anticipation. She responded to me silently. I listened, and the originally depressed mood was like a dead wood in the spring, sweeping away the bitterness of parting. The night wind blew softly, slowly caressing my face and soothing my heart. In the distance, the lights are dimmed, emitting a gentle light, as if expecting it too...
The next morning, I woke up early and listened to the cicadas. The summer sky is clear, holding a faint breeze, soothing the sigh in the heart, leaving a burst of fragrance.
"Here you are," she saw me, and smiled with some joy, "you slacker got up so early!" ”
"You bastard left sooner." I pretended to be angry.
"Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh You're really pinching the point, I'm just leaving, goodbye! She waved her hand, a little nostalgic, but jumped and walked off into the distance, until the figure was obscured by the mountains and blown away by the breeze.
"Goodbye!" I murmured and watched her go. But there were no imaginary tears, no unexpected whimpering, just like the usual ordinary greeting. "You can't cry with anticipation," I said silently in my heart as I looked in the direction she was leaving, "so you and I don't cry." ”
A wisp of fresh wind gently stroked, with a touch of coolness, blowing away a lonely place, leaving a full of expectation, I walked on the street with that full of expectation, watching the summer days in the early morning, looking at the pedestrians who walked by one after another, looking at the butterfly insects that flew from time to time, and looking at myself full of expectations.
Streamers are easy to throw people away, red cherries, green plantains, and you and I are still full of expectations, looking forward to reunion in a moment.
- Epilogue
About the Author
Heartfelt Month, a quiet inner show, love life, love to laugh girl.
Image: Network