How strong you have to be before you dare to remember it.

Once with a knapsack of fresh memories, along with the train all the way, love, scattered on the rusty tracks. Missing is an invisible rope, passing mountain breeze, accidentally touched the mood of disturbance, tears in the eyes, the heart began to twitch slowly. I thought that as long as I went far enough, I wouldn't miss for no reason; just like cutting off my waist-length hair, I thought I could start all over again. But in the gap of time, the sun always casts a shadow of memory inadvertently.

Missing is tricky, and people who have never experienced it will never understand what kind of pain it is. Distance is an obstacle, memories are too surging, loneliness is too good at making use of all available space, how strong I must be before I dare to keep in mind.

At first, when my brother left home, my father said, remember to write back often. Brother listened to his father's words, wrote to him, the letter is very long, full of concern for each other, a person away from home, more or less have some sorrow and trouble. Father, he said in the letter, don't be homesick all the time. Everything is all right with me at home. Then, he usually gives an example, such as his grandmother can thread a needle, and his grandfather can drink a few glasses of wine without getting drunk; like a pumpkin vine with seven pumpkins, like this year's good rice harvest and two cabinets in the house. He plans to make another cupboard. He also said that if a person gets up early and late in the morning and does not know whether it is cold or warm, if a woman thinks it is suitable, she might as well find a wife.

After my brother, I also left home, and my father would talk to me on the phone every weekend. On the phone, I always deliberately cover it up, saying that I don't want to miss it, but I still miss it in my heart.

I know. I'm homesick.

The bell rang after class, through the empty cultural corridor, through the cold walls, into the dead classroom, awakening me who was sleeping. Two classes, 90 minutes long, I am tired of the teacher's monologue, disguised preaching; the bell rang, finally relieved, escape from this dull, lifeless classroom, very happy.

The square at dusk, the setting sun and sunset red half of the river sky, looks very beautiful, now surrounded by lights, it seems a bit cumbersome. I am used to taking you as the center, admiring the beauty of the world in every direction, but when you are away, you can't see the path that extends deeper and farther around the corner.

Tonight, the air is a little moist, looking up, and thinking of the encounter with you, red eyes, tears falling from the air, telling broken language, the voice mixed with deep disgust. You are the teenager who turned my head in my memory, and it is also the driving force for me to start my journey, but now it has disappeared, too many stories have long been mottled, and too many emotions remain at the bottom of my heart.

Life without love is like a long night without dawn. But love, often intertwined with countless joys and pains, I have to be how strong, dare not forget.

I know that if love wants to live like a movie, it will always be an unrealistic and perfect imagination. I am not a perfect great man, but I want to occupy your whole heart. Forgive me for not being perfect, but I will work hard for you.

My favorite place is to have you, have your breath, have your smell; many years have passed, do not know where you are, but I will insist on waiting for you to come back, back to the town where we met.

Youth is the loneliness of a prosperous age. May you cry with joy every time you shed tears. Life is a long journey, a direction, a me, looking for a shortcut into your heart. I will be good, eat well, sleep well, otherwise how can I always accompany you, walk forever.

I would like to be like the waves of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind into the center of your lake, and into your heart before the twilight melts the colors of the world.

In this world, you have to waste some unnecessary things before you can come back and find what you were looking for in the first place.

At that time, those boring, trivial and even somewhat puzzling behaviors in our eyes, like children playing with houses, may now feel childish; you will find it ridiculous to gather together in the mud to catch Loach; you will find it boring to climb trees, pound birds' nests and catch cicadas in summer; but after years of precipitation, they eventually become eternal memories, the reason why we are so, and the wealth that we can really inherit.

I like to put the joys and sorrows of life into a transparent sealed jar, the scenery outside is changing, and the air inside is getting thinner and thinner, so that I can integrate joys and sorrows, calm the state of mind and accept the sunshine of love.

Author: Wutongyue