First love memories
It’s late at night, quietly, alone thinking of you. Alone feeling a kind of happiness, you are always deep in my heart, thinking of you feels so good, only at this moment, you are mine alone. The night, because of thinking of you, is so peaceful and also so lonely.
How many years has it been, I often think of you like this, from before, in my memory, and in my heart. How far is the distance between hearts? No one can measure it, it should be within reach, yet it’s also so far away. Sometimes I think, having loved you for so many years, I wonder if you’ve ever liked me even a little.
I remember every word you said, I remember the expression on your face when you said each word, it all seems to have happened in a previous life, yet it also feels like it was just yesterday.
Perhaps it’s all fate, or destiny. In the spring when I was seventeen, I met you in the classroom. The moment your eyes glanced past me, I felt like I had known you for a hundred or a thousand years, and this encounter was inevitable. Because of you, my life had a dead knot from then on. Your breath, your laughter, your joy, your sorrow became all the dreams of my girlhood.
Before attending your wedding, I burned all my diaries from school days and our correspondence, and I never wrote a diary again after that. I did something that still makes me admire myself: on your wedding day, I went to pick up your bride.
Until you got married, my closest contact with you was the day before your wedding, shaking hands to congratulate you, and then you lightly embraced me on my shoulder. This gesture has lingered in my mind for half a lifetime.
When I met your wife again, I didn’t hear a word of what she said to me, I just saw her belly high and bulging. At that moment I suddenly understood that I too should get married. So it was, your son, before he was born, became my matchmaker and facilitated my marriage.
Later, sometimes we would meet on the street, smile, greet, politely but stiffly distant. This small city sometimes feels very big, almost a year without seeing you once, occasionally hearing people mention you, knowing you are well.
Many years later, I had contact with your wife, had my first meal with you at the same table, had a tiny bit of connection, had my first reunion with classmates, and had the closest distance to you in twenty years.
On the way back, I sat alone, maybe our hearts resonated, you really came. You gently stroked my hand, letting me lean on your shoulder. I was half asleep, half awake, just wishing this limited return journey could become forever. At the later dance, you tightly held the non-dancing me and said, you just wanted to hold me for a while.
Twenty-three years have passed, this is the closest I’ve been to you, the most intimate gesture, the most heartfelt words. I warned myself, in the future, with you, we will only be friends, and can never become lovers. You are like tears in my eyes, I can’t blink, afraid the tears will fall. Shattering you would shatter my thousand-year-old dream. Let us become lifelong, best friends. Having loved you for so many years, having this in this life is enough!
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
