[Emotional Story] The bouquet of daisies on the window lattice (redirected)

That winter, I met him... There is no snow in the winter in the south, only the cold wind rolling the leaves. In the wind, I was walking slowly on the street, and suddenly there was him among the crowd. He was so different! With a high bridge of nose, deep eyes, closed mouth, the outline of the face is as sharp as a marble statue. Her hair is so long that it half covers her eyes and looks a bit messy in the wind. Wearing a thin long black windbreaker, riding an old blue-gray mountain bike. I couldn't help but stare at him. He looked at me with such a cold look! It felt like my whole body was frozen. When I woke up, he was gone.
Since then, I have never forgotten those deep eyes and that old mountain bike. There is such a coincidence in this world. A few days later, I actually saw his old gray mountain bike under my window. My heart beat wildly for no reason, and later I learned that he lived in the small house not far from my window and had just moved there.
So that winter, the narrow window always contained my favorite scenery. Every evening, I stood blankly in front of the window, waiting for that tall and familiar figure through the window screen. Under the setting sun, he flew over on a mountain bike, so I started to hold my breath for fear of alarming him. After he parked the car under my window and left, I reluctantly looked at his retreating figure, and my little heart also flew away with him, flying so far away, it felt like a dream.
I am no longer lonely on deserted winter nights because I have his guitar as my companion. What kind of sound is that! Weeping and complaining, beautiful and lonely. I always listen with my heart, often with tears streaming down my face, immersed in the endless dark night with his music. If I don't hear his guitar playing one night, I will worry, is he sick? I know that I do have feelings for him, pure and persistent. He is different from the boys around me. He is like a mystery, so I can't help but guess and understand him. Although I don't know his name, and although he hasn't said a word to me, as long as I see him and listen to his guitar every day, I am very satisfied.
In a hurry, the cold and charming winter slipped through his broad back, spring is here!
Looking out the window at the lush spring scenery, I suddenly had an impulse. So, I picked a large handful of daisies, tied them up with ribbons, tied them gently, and tied my heart into them, and tied a bow carefully to tie my feelings.
With a beating heart, I put the daisies on his blue-gray mountain bike. Suddenly, I saw his footsteps coming out of the house. Standing in front of the window, I cursed myself over and over again for being useless. At this time, he had arrived in front of the car and bent down to pick up the daisies. My heart is like a rabbit and my face is burning. Our eyes met, and I shouted in confusion: "Mine!" As soon as I finished speaking, I regretted it and looked at him blankly. He came over, holding the bouquet of daisies: "It's beautiful -" he looked at me calmly, "but it was picked too early. If it were later, it would bloom more beautifully." With that, he tied the daisy on my window lattice and left silently.
In the days to come, I will no longer wait quietly for his return. I have not taken off the bunch of daisies tied to the window lattice, waiting for them to dry slowly on their own. He was right, it was picked too early and it would have bloomed more beautifully if it had been picked later. The romance was still there, and I stopped dreaming... until one day, he was leaving, and he moved things back and forth to his house for a few days.
One evening when the sunset was like blood, I called him. He was a little surprised and asked: "Is something wrong?" I remained silent, full of words that I didn't know where to start, and looked at him with watery eyes. His eyes are like the deep black sea, so deep and so far away that my water will never reach his. He also looked at me silently for a long time, and then he said: "Why are your daisies still hanging? They are all dead." I smiled faintly: "Because there is a story locked in these flowers." "What story?"You won't understand..." I felt helpless. "I'm leaving." "He said.
"...Bon voyage. "I finally said this with great effort and breathed a long sigh of relief.
"Thank you. "He showed a smile, and I knew it was for me.
" "Thank you." "I answered him in my heart, turned around feebly, and found that my eyes were already moist. In the blurry world, the bunch of withered yellow daisies was swaying on the window lattice...