One, childhood sweetheart

Deinatively forget, forget how to love. Or hurt each other inadvertently... The final ending is always given to tears, crying, and then love again, hurting... Love repeats like this. What I don't understand is why love is so bitter, but there are still so many people crazy about it. Is it just a pursuit like a fire moth? The brilliance of the moment is still the person looking for flowers on a snowy night, looking for the legend in his heart! Or people never understand that the love we have been chasing is just a hurtful and hurtful burlesque...

After leaving the company, I realized that I didn't know anything about Shuangshuang, and the only mobile phone I contacted had also been shut down. Could it be that the frost I have always wanted to chase is just a mirage in the desert? Although she does exist in a corner of the world, she gives me more fantasy than reality. This makes me a little decadent, but I think that maybe Xiaodie knows where the Shuangshuang family is. After all, they are best friends, and girls are always hypocritical or careful. They will like to ask some questions that they don't want to know, and will remember things that may never be used... So I told Xiaobao and asked him to have a frost. I will contact me as soon as I hear from Frost, but what should I do before this? I can finally understand Martin • Eden's mood: "I lost my lover. If I have lost the nautical chart, lost the rudder, and I don't know which port to go, I have to drift with the tide and avoid facing life, because it is life itself that makes me feel painful."

Go home... After all, the end of the escape was home. I called home listlessly, saying that I was defeated and fired from the company. I didn't have the face to see Jiangdong's father. Anyway, I said whatever it was. It was until my mother took the initiative to ask me to go home for a rest for a while before I hung up. However, the phone can be hung up, but my thoughts begin to rise and fall. I think of her when I was a child, my childhood friend, playing and crying together in the mud. The little girl who is always stubborn and always doesn't leave me, but when she sees me, she always poses like a tigress. I heard that she was born. At that time, the house was full of roses, so my parents gave her this name, which made me doubt for a time whether she was the legend in my heart. But this idea was rejected before she went to college, because she changed. When she grew up, she changed and became to see my gentle willows in the wind, like the full moon on the fifteenth. If it is destined to arrive at the same time as growing up is gentleness, I would rather she still be the same impulse, often angry with me, pouting little girl, but all this can't go back, although she likes me very much!

I have always thought that my memories have no concept of time and scene, but memories are addictive. Once the shadow of someone floats into my thoughts, I will think of everything about that person, the details of being with her, and that we went to the same junior high school. When I passed by, she helped me carry my schoolbag. I carried it on my bicycle. They went to the same high school again. After being mocked by boys in the same grade, we ignored these, as if it was natural for two people to be together, but we couldn't be together in the end, which made me wonder if things in my childhood could only become the embellishment of life like game shows?

I have always thought that there is a way to go... Thinking that we went to college and finally couldn't go to the same university. Later, I had a girlfriend and contacted less and less. I always thought that maybe she also thought so. Neither of us can be separated from each other. When we first went to college, we were so reluctant and in a trance, but now, it has been five years since we separated. In five years, I seldom think of her again, but I know that she has always remembered me and read me, because every time I call home, I always hear my mother mentions her coming to my house to help and ask me about my situation. Can all this make me smile? But the frost took away my smile. I looked at the stars shining outside the window, and the train flew with my thoughts, sighing like "Tang Bohu":

"How do you know that I miss you day and night and forget to eat and sleep? How do you know how depressed I am these days, and I have been idle for thousands of times under the moon? I don't want to drink it. The beautiful scenery of the good day is just full of sadness. I'm afraid to listen to it - the sound of chickens, the sound of bells, the dusk, and the fifth update. At that time, my sadness soared."