<Beautiful Writing><Those Years, The Youth We Ran Together>
Some things seem futile, like youth; some feelings, even after giving, cannot be possessed; some people, even after being embraced, cannot be held forever. Time is too hurried, and we all grow up stumbling along. How should we continue, and how should we let go? Young love has long been like a burned-out match, lying quietly in the corner. Young love has long been like an unforgettable diary, softly recording the past. Young love has long been like a sorrowful song, mournfully praising what once was. Young love has long been recounted by us countless times; time will leave us the best proof, proving our innocent and unrestrained nature. And that is enough. I am willing to believe in your next life, your mutual care, your vows, your eternity. But in the end, we cannot reach the most beautiful forever. How regrettable. Dear, a short farewell leaves me restless. We say goodbye thinking we will meet again at the same place, but the partings of youth cannot withstand the test of time. Ultimately, we drift further apart. Back then, you were my only one, and your strength gave me enough security. Looking at your face, I found endless things to talk about, childish naivety allowing me to act spoiled and lose my temper. With your overflowing affection, I truly felt lucky. Now… looking at the stars, I think of what you loved most, but I, who once loved the moon the most, have already changed… yet you don't understand. Sometimes, I inexplicably miss you for a long, long time, something you may never know, and how much you meant to me. After all, it's all in the past. I think we will grow on schedule; everyone has their own life path. I am grateful for the interactions we've had, thank you for your tolerance and care. As long as it proves that after love, after crying, after sadness, the sun shines again. In the memory of having you, there are rainy cloudy days; in the memory of having you, there is my naive growing self. I just remember, in the purest time, a boy deeply left a mark in my bones, existing with no impurities. I wonder, is this the first person one loves when growing up?Why is it so profound, the pain lingers yet I don't want to let go, just want to slowly come to terms with it, slowly let it pass with time, you and I, both doing well in our own way. I don't know if you still remember the words 'peace and war' written on that wall. The rain washed away our childishness, and over time we learned that respecting others is respecting yourself, and loving yourself more than loving others. I don't know if you still remember me clumsily running on that basketball court. Sweat witnessed our past; friends were not, but what ultimately hurt me was the departure without saying goodbye. Perhaps those who are sentimental are always hurt by the unfeeling. I promised myself that in the future, I will be a wise woman, neither humble nor arrogant, warming the people who were once good to me. I don't know if you still remember that stingy apology letter; it is my only memory. You made me grow, and slowly I realized that nothing can truly be eternal. Many things, as we speak of them, will change, just like your vow yesterday, which may be left for someone who appears tomorrow. It is not irresponsibility, but no one will ever belong to anyone. Memories always kill gently. And you? Do you ever occasionally remember the girl who once acted foolish for you? Perhaps forgetting is for the best, or maybe this is the newest beginning. I have never forgotten because you are the first man who appeared in my life.
