I loved to listen to the 'love letter of that year' last year. Maybe I forgot it. I didn't listen to it again since then, until I read a person's blog and remembered it again. In the silent morning, I couldn't help listening again and again, listening to the sad voice and tears dripping on the thin paper, slowly spreading, the handwriting blurred, and the memory in my mind peeled off layer by layer, A thick layer, two layers, three layers, four layers
I thought I had forgotten it, but I didn't know that it was just thicker and thicker, cut constantly, and disorderly. The hope hidden in the corner always eroded me and tore my heart and lungs. However, the hope was only short, and my heart had guessed the result. After all, the hope was illusory and broken in a dream.
Again and again refused to wake up in that wonderful dream until tears wet the pillow towel and finally opened the hazy eyes. I couldn't help asking myself, am I still me? Or me?
My friend said that everyone has the right to love. With the right, but without the ability, this is my sadness!
When a person loves another person too much, he will forget to love the people around him. It's not that he doesn't love, but that he is forgotten. In a corner, the innocence once seemed so ridiculous. A filled heart, no matter how hard you try, can't squeeze a little place, even the small one.
Since then, I have learned to hide and forget. I don't expect more. I just want to get the casual thought. Really, if I miss it secretly in the middle of the night, I can only be secretly. I'm afraid that even that trace of contact has been lost. I face it carefully. When my face turns back, my tears slowly flow down and wipe it with my hands in a hurry.
Tired, is physical and mental fatigue, with a night's time to let oneself enjoy the memory, 12 o'clock has passed, in the memory button, the hand trembled and pressed the delete, everything has become blank, tears gushing, until the eyes are sour, fall asleep, wake up, the eyes are empty, it seems that you can't feel the pain, is it loss of sleep?
The hair is long, and the hair is wrapped between the fingers. Let the wind blow away, I have forgotten the girl with happy short hair. In the mirror, there is only a lazy woman. The eyes under the bangs are covered with sad, indifferent expression and thin cheeks.
Time is enough to heal the wound, but it can't erase the scar. The wound has healed and the scar is still there. The traces of years are clearly engraved on my face. Although my face is young, my heart is old. What else can I spend?
There is nothing left, the heart is corroded and tends to be weak.
In the early morning, when I was in the strong wind, the dust blown by the wind blurred my eyes, the sand ran into my eyes, and the tears kept flowing out. When I recalled that night, the corners of my mouth tilted slightly. It turned out that missing was hidden and kept fresh. Now it has thawed, just like the original fresh and tender, bit by bit. Not only the memory but also the person who was afraid of being mentioned can not be forgotten.
Those humble years may have passed, but the humble heart still exists. Is this fate?
Or people deliberately chase?