We were both Senior 3 when I first saw him. Wire-rimmed glasses, blue Number 11th, a gentle, wise, happy guy I’ve never met before. Then one night all of a sudden, I dreamed of him, juggling, smiling at me. At that moment, I flipped, the light shining in his eyes was just like Cupid’s arrow of love, flying straight to my heart without hesitation. Yeah, that’s it. My heart was lost, it must be left in his by myself intentionally.
However, our story had slow to progress. I was ashamed to express my admiration of love, although even a glimpse of him may be a resource of my all day’s happiness, I felt myself inferior to catch up with him deep inside my mind. Watching his football playing was the only thing that I could insist on. I gradually became accustomed to that kind of feeling, drowning silently, waiting for a person who will never be mine. It was painful. I cried without tears, struggling without movement, roaring without sound.
It was the college entrance examination that depart he and I thoroughly, I came to realize, the story must end without a happy ending but I will be relieved. I will be bound to forget him one day, it may be a pleasant afternoon, a sleepy night or after a series of laughter against my will. He will be the one in my past memory but never in my future life.
This is my love story.
Grandpa once told me:
Next time you come back, say’hi’to your grandma first.
She’ll be upset if she isn’t the first person who you talk to, ha ,
like a child,always.
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