ps: As the title says, I finished the exam yesterday, and the teacher only then asked us to write the essay for the first unit. Isn't this a total trick?\pss: By the way, the title is "The Troubles of Growing Up," and here are two questions for the students who are willing to read carefully.\1. What is meant by "troubles"?\2. Who is the person the author is writing about?\psss: Read it carefully once, then read it again with the questions in mind; this is very effective for understanding the essay.\pssss: Since it was just written and hasn't been copied into the notebook yet, and it's also the first release online, can it earn a little recognition?\psssss: Uh, this counts as a narrative essay, I guess. The following is the text.\,\,\,\"The Troubles of Growing Up"
有人曾说,相遇是缘,相知是分,相伴相随是缘分。In our childhood, each of us imagined having a friend we could completely trust and rely on, someone with whom we could share joys and sorrows. But how can life always go as we wish? Who can truly understand whom, and who can trust whom?\I remember when I was in elementary school, I took the bus home by myself every day. Since I was quite bold, I often chatted a bit with the familiar bus driver. Today, by coincidence, I met the driver I liked the most. Seeing her bus coming from afar, my heart couldn't help blooming with happiness. But once I got on the bus, I was puzzled: the seat by the iron railing on the right side was occupied by a little boy, so I couldn't stand close to the driver, and the boy didn't seem to be considerate at all. He even stared at me. To be honest, I thought this kid was really strange.\However, the next day, and the day after, I kept running into this boy on the bus. I also noticed that he was always quietly staring at me. Although I didn't know why, I thought at least I should clarify it, so I looked at him. As if he noticed I was looking, his expression became a little nervous. I then walked to his side. Just as I was about to speak, the words changed to, "Are you getting off at this stop too?" "Yeah." He replied with a quick response.\It must have been like this: when I was nine, my fate intertwined with this little boy because of this inexplicable encounter. He had somewhat long black hair, small cheeks, and a thin body. Although he was only a year younger than me, he was clearly shorter than most kids his age, always a head shorter than me.He may be so monotonous, but to me, he is so familiar. Those two figures leaning against the license plate at the station after school; that sweaty, energetic atmosphere we shared on the school playground; those two voices shouting and struggling with the controllers in the electronics store, determined to win. Almost every day, after school and before the gates open, I could always see the two of them going home together, going to school together.\ Life is like a straight line, each one endless; some go longer, some shorter. His life and mine are like two non-parallel straight lines that intersect at this inevitable point.\ They say that all good things must come to an end. After I entered junior high, the chances for us to be together became fewer. Perhaps it was because the junior high school was closer to home, my grandmother told me to ride a bike to school from then on. I didn't mind this at all, after all, it was easier to manage my school time. But since he was a year younger, he was still in the sixth grade when I advanced to junior high. Until the year before he graduated, we still occasionally played together. Because our school dismissal times were different, whenever we planned to play together, he would always be at my school gate waiting for me first, and after school, I could see him already standing there waiting. This seemed fine, until a year later, when I heard that he also got into the same school as me, I couldn't help but be overjoyed and immediately called to ask. After confirming the news, we agreed to go to school together like before.\ But a few days after school started, he broke his promise. Since I rode a bike to school and he couldn't, he had to walk very fast to catch up with me. That's what he told me, so he chose to take the bus instead. Because of this, although we were at the same school again, our time together was even less. Our occasional meetings were just at the school gate.\ Later, I heard that he often skipped classes, and it seemed the teachers didn't have a good impression of him. I called him a few times, but he would always awkwardly say nothing, and I really didn't know what was going on, perhaps because I never paid attention. After that, he seemed to stay home most of the time, rarely going out, while I naturally continued attending school. Up until now, I am already in high school, and I heard that he recently went back to school again. Why? I don't know either.I haven't seen him even once in the past two years. Sometimes I try to ask him out to hang out, but he refuses each time. For someone like me, who goes out almost every day, I really don't understand why he likes staying at home. But it's just that thought, I guess. I never thought about when I would go out with him again, or when we would go to school together again—those things are unrealistic. What I think about now is how to excel in high school courses so I can get into a good university; whereas what he probably thinks about is studying hard to try to get into high school.\
Everyone's life is a straight line, and no two lines are the same. Some of these lines are parallel, some intersect. The parallel ones may never meet in this lifetime, and the intersecting ones, after meeting at a certain inevitable point, will gradually diverge from one another. If you happen to think of it from time to time, that there was someone who crossed your path at some point, all you can do is watch alone from the other shore.\
The End~
