Wait for you to say you love me

The calendar has turned over another year, he and I are still two streams of their own quiet flow, the mountains and rivers ahead are heavy, I can't see the hope of merging, just move with my heart, that is the same choice, only forward, and then forward...

One day in May, my computer malfunctioned, and it didn't help that colleagues took turns playing, and I don't know who mentioned his name and said that he was very professional at "playing" with computers. He is Yong. I was not impressed with him, but I worked on the same floor as each other, looking down and not looking up, vaguely knowing that there was such a person, at best, nodding.

　　Sitting in front of my computer, Yong looked a little restrained, and the smell of books brought out by a pair of black-rimmed glasses made me look at it a few more times. At this time, an old colleague came to visit and rushed out at me: This is your new boyfriend, right? You two are a good match. For this joke, I was too unprepared, and I didn't know how to respond for a while. The colleague turned to Yong to ask, and his white face began to blush, and he couldn't help but say: I do, people don't want to. As soon as this remark came out, there was a lot of noise, and I was annoyed, for his falsehood, but in the end it ended with a bare smile.

　　Since that "joke incident," my relationship with him has become a little more delicate. When we met again in the corridor, his eyes flickered a little, while I was a little confused, relatively speechless after saying goodbye, I wanted to see him and was afraid to see his emotions growing day by day in my heart. He has noticeably increased the number of times he enters and exits my office, or makes small talk with my colleagues, or pauses for a moment before quietly exiting. My reservedness prompted me to pretend to work, but who understood that I was always expecting his presence, and the hand holding the mouse trembled silently because of his gaze?

　　It was a rest day, and it happened to be the Dragon Boat Festival, and I was alone in the office, letting the gradually thick nostalgia and twilight surround me. In a trance, he heard movement in the corridor, and then he came in. At that moment I felt vulnerable, hoping that he could say something, even if it was my name, but he handed me a shopping bag and left the silent back to me. The bag contained the same brand of ice cream that I liked, and I froze for a moment, then vaguely remembered that I had inadvertently said that I would only eat ice cream bought by others. For a long time, I stared at the ice cream, reluctant to eat the first bite, lest I spoil its original shape, and the tears that had been accumulated for a long time slipped down drop by drop, bitter and sweet.

　　I thought that the story was opening little by little, he was the affectionate male protagonist in the story, and I was the happy heroine in the story, thinking that the truth was in the wordless, and the words were a burden. More and more people began to joke with him consciously or unconsciously, witnessing the embarrassment of his unkind words in front of colleagues and friends, and the sourness wandered powerlessly in the bottom of his heart. Gradually, he stopped dabbling in my office, met in public places, and was already stingy with the shy and warm smile of the past, and his eyes were intertwined, deliberately creating a cold and rejecting person. I couldn't find the courage to seek the answer, afraid that my self-esteem would eventually be nowhere to be seen. He is still him, and my heart is a king's heart, and it has long been stained with tears of frustration. Close at hand and far away from the end of the world, I sank in the tide of ups and downs of thoughts, let the years falter, let the youth be barren, and let the thoughts be blank. Love and no love, a word difference, but it is the difference between heaven and hell.

　　Cold winds and cold rain wreaked havoc over this small southern city all night. As if in hibernation, I woke up in the cold morning, glimpsed Zhang Xiaoxian's works spread out at the head of the bed, a sentence "The duty of a crush is silence" pierced into the eyes, thin clothes and thin body can not withstand the cold, I can't help but hit a spirit. Yeah, it's surprisingly cold this winter. Two months ago, his company moved, so he stepped out of my sight. "Inextricably linked into an inch, only the endless place of acacia", there is no beginning, there is no end, there is no agreement, there is no betrayal, but why is my heart still difficult to suppress its pain? If there is love in life, why fear the ruthlessness of the years? The most ruthless thing is to wait until the story is halfway through before I realize that I am the only one left on and off the stage.

　　Just, just, does he know? If the years can be like the four seasons, I am still willing to be in that grassy early summer, waiting for a beautiful oath that belongs to him.