[Emotions] I want you to wake me up for my whole life

He and she were classmates at university. Four years, four years spent together. Four simple years, four carefree years. He was a tall boy, always wearing the brightest smile on his face. Like all boys, he was careless, forgetful; he loved playing basketball, sleeping in, holding a guitar and singing, and chatting with pretty junior female students. As for her, she was a ordinary, attentive girl; she loved daydreaming, fantasizing, watching boys play basketball, and cheering them on from a distance, a little shyly.

He and she were the most ordinary of friends. Friends who would merely nod when meeting. But after the nod, her heart would race, and she would blush. What's wrong? She asked herself inwardly, do I… like him? She shook her head, refusing to admit her feelings. She carefully guarded her emotions, carefully watching the prince in her heart. And he, not noticing at all, had a beautiful girlfriend. Yes, tall as he was, he wouldn't pay attention to the ordinary her.

The story begins before graduation. At the farewell dinner that year, everyone acted as if they were crazy; drinking desperately, singing desperately. Graduation brought so much happiness, and so much trouble. He finally broke up with his girlfriend, graduation drove them apart. He kept drinking with friends, mourning his withered relationship. She, alone in a corner, quietly poured herself a full glass of wine.

She never drank, but this time she poured herself a full glass. Encouraging herself inwardly, she walked toward him. "Wishing you a bright future." She spoke a little hurriedly, her heart beating fast. He probably didn't even clearly see her before him, lifted the glass, and drank. The alcohol blurred his eyes. Looking at this ordinary, blurry figure before him, everything went chaotic; the whole world went chaotic. "Am I your princess?" Drunk, he hugged her tightly. And she, tears pouring out, for this wrong embrace.

Yes, wrong is wrong. They soon graduated. Yet this passionate hug stayed in her heart. This was the first time she had fallen into a boy's arms, the prince she had quietly admired for four years. That was enough, she thought quietly. The prince would just appear often in her dreams.

Although in the same city, opportunities for them to contact each other were not frequent.He worked in the IT industry, and she went to a well-known telecommunications company. A year later, everyone gathered for a reunion. It wasn't like what was written in novels; many classmates were still single. He happened to mention that he was very tired. He angrily said that capitalism exploits people, and he was just one day late, yet a Friday's expense was deducted.

Friends all said that being lazy like him, using an alarm clock was useless. The alarm would wake his fingers, not his brain; only a kind person giving a morning call would work. She, who had been silently quiet all this time, suddenly spoke: 'Let me call you.' He was surprised. She smiled and said, 'It's just that I don't have to pay the phone bill.' He felt relieved, 'Okay, thank you.'

And so, at seven in the morning, his phone rang on time. At first, she simply said, 'Good morning, get up.' This went on, from summer to the following spring. Their morning call time gradually lengthened, from half a minute to ten minutes. They talked about work, they talked about the weather. He always thanked her. And she deliberately avoided him. She was afraid he would see through her heart. She knew he would not love her, and she had no reason to take it seriously. But was she really not serious? Every day, she would wake up at 6:40. No matter how sleepy she was, she wouldn't fall back asleep. Because her heart would race, just like when she saw him in college.

Another year passed. University classmates had very little contact now. But he and she, thanks to their morning calls, surprisingly maintained the miracle of a daily phone call! But this call was just a morning greeting; aside from this time, they had almost no other contact. Perhaps, during the New Year, she received a greeting card. He wanted to take her out to eat, but she refused. Keeping her secret to herself, she felt a sense of pride. And she became even clearer that he was not hers. Thus, they stayed in touch in a very relaxed way. They didn't really understand each other's lives. She fell ill, often having headaches. Once she fainted, only then she found out she had a brain tumor. A one in ten thousand chance of recovery. She was in the hospital. But she still didn't forget her task. Every day, she used her own phone to dial his. Listening to his vague responses on the other side, she felt reassured. She took her task seriously, and she knew that such days wouldn't last long. And his tall, handsome figure was always what she worried about most.

Her illness worsened. She began to lose consciousness, getting closer and closer to death.There was a powerful injection that could wake her from her coma. She asked the doctor to give her this medicine every morning. The doctor agreed—there was nothing he couldn't promise a dying person. She still called his phone, using the happiest voice, spinning the most believable lies. He was so careless; he didn't notice anything.

He was getting more and more successful in the IT industry, and his popularity was rising. He had clearly become a knowledge hero in Zhongguancun. People said he was a dedicated and punctual person. Only his first boss knew he loved being late; only his classmates knew he was lazy. Beautiful girls always surrounded him because he was clearly a rising star! He would play along in romances, but without sincerity. In fact, he didn't even realize that every morning, that phone had already made him accustomed to it. Even though he no longer needed that MORNING CALL, he didn't say so; every morning, he waited for that call. He would ask himself: Do I love her? Would I marry her? No, he shook his head. She was simply too ordinary, not a bit dazzling, I don't want… Yet he also knew he was used to her; he couldn't live without her. Perhaps, he consoled himself, more ordinary girls are more likely to keep their promises.

However, such phone contact couldn't continue for long. Because, because, because she had to leave. Her coma lasted longer and longer. She started missing appointments, started giving no MORNING CALL. He found it strange, but didn't ask further—the girl should have her own life. Sometimes he even chuckled secretly: After being with her boyfriend, calling another man is, of course, not good. Boys, are they all this careless?

Her condition worsened. She was on the edge of death. Her approaching death became a message to her classmates; many classmates came to the hospital to see her. He finally learned the news. Besides shock, he felt nothing. Wasn't she fine? Didn't she often make the MORNING CALL? Even if she missed sometimes, she was still generally on time. He assumed it was a sudden illness. He hurriedly bought a bouquet of yellow roses and rushed to the hospital. In his heart, he considered her his best friend; yellow roses represented friendship.

He went to start his car. The phone rang again. Could it be her? He had truly gotten used to her. No, it was a message from a beautiful, delicate young lady: a heart. He looked at his Nokia—it was a phone capable of transmitting images.For the past two years, he had received countless hearts and angels, but none from her. He suddenly stopped, thinking of a girl who never said 'I love you.' He could easily recall her phone number, the numbers he looked at every day: he recited them. A dizzying feeling spread over his head. She was the one counting and managing these numbers, and she could pick the most suitable one for herself. It turned out that every day, she would say '521.' Thinking this through, he could hardly stand. The whole world seemed to turn upside down. Every day, every day, every day. At that fixed moment, her gentle voice would reach his ears—'Wake up, don't be late.'

'Do you want to sleep a bit more? I'll call you in ten minutes?'

'It's cold today, be careful.'

Later, when she grew bolder, she even used a joking tone: 'Have you missed me?'

No, no, no. He couldn't think that way. He suddenly felt he was the biggest fool in the world. He felt that whatever he said, he could not lose her. Yes, could not lose—that feeling of not being able to lose, that pain of fearing loss—that was love. He couldn't say anything else. He could write the simplest program, hack any website in the world, but he couldn't see through an ordinary girl. Was she really ordinary? No, no, I want her! He couldn't drive himself, so he called a taxi. He needed to get to her side, yes, carrying love with him! In front of a flower shop, he asked the taxi to stop. He threw down yellow roses. 'Quick, I want red roses, 999 of them!' A small shop couldn't have that many. The attentive shop girl put together 99.

The 99 fiery, passionate European roses finally arrived at the hospital with him. She was in a coma. Several machines were beside her, making strange sounds, flashing strange images. He waited outside the door, together with the 99 roses, waiting for her to wake up. She would survive. With me loving her, she would live! He quietly called to her, 'I'm waiting for you!' She finally woke up. He rushed in, with 99 roses. He leaned close to her ear, just like she called to him every morning, letting his voice gently reach her ear: 'I love you.' She had completely changed. Everyone knows that 'ordinary' is a polite way to describe an unattractive girl. Yes, she was not a pretty girl.And she looked even worse while sick. But for him, what did he need? He didn't need a beautiful girl; he only needed a mind that loved him wholeheartedly! He loved her.

The brain tumor had been pressing on her optic nerve, and she could barely see anything. He held her hand and gently said, 'I don't have a diamond ring right now, but I sincerely propose to you. Believe me! I only have 99 roses. You are an extraordinary girl; would you like roses? I'm afraid you might not like them, but…' In his eyes, she was so unique. Would she like such ordinary roses? And he had given roses to so many people before. He didn't know what to say. This wasn't pity or sympathy. He knew he had realized too late; he knew he had actually fallen in love with her long ago. Her small, soft hand was held in his slender, cold hand.

'Fool, which girl doesn't like roses?' she said with a trembling voice. He pressed her hand to his face and murmured, 'When we get married, we'll have 999 roses, not 9,999…' She smiled and then slipped into unconsciousness again.

He had been by her side in the hospital for days. He refused to answer any calls; his phone only waited for one number: 13901120521. Sometimes she was awake, sometimes asleep.

When awake, she would say: 'I'm really sorry I haven't kept all my promises.'

He would hold her small hand and say, 'I really love you, I have always loved you, I will wait for you.'

'This is the happiest time of my life.' 'With you, I am truly happy.'

He could not believe this was their last time together; he wanted to bring her back, he wanted her to keep her promises, he wanted her to wake him up for the rest of her life.

That day, she stayed awake longer, and it seemed she could see again. But she could barely breathe, and in the morning she gave him a smile, the most beautiful smile. But then came severe headaches and vomiting. The monitors showed her intracranial pressure was extremely high. She was leaving this world. And in this situation, only she, only she herself could truly feel this pain. The doctor wrote in the diagnosis: 'Euthanasia would be more humane.' Of course not, this was the happiest time, with him.

So quiet. The surroundings were so quiet. It was already autumn, leaves fell from the branches, covering the little path. This was the season when they first met. She looked at him, thinking about their story.The heartbeat on campus, the warm hugs at graduation, the seemingly casual promises, the phone ringing every morning that makes people both resentful and affectionate, and then the roses. She signaled with her eyes. He took her phone from under her pillow. It was the first time he saw this phone that called him every day. A small blue phone, his favorite color, and also his favorite model—Nokia. He took out his own phone. A heart, he solemnly sent a heart to her. She smiled. It was really quiet all around, only the sound of dialing on the phone keypad. She, for the first time, sent him a heart. She handed her phone to him and slowly closed her eyes. He took the two phones and placed them side by side. On the screens, the two hearts leaned together.