First love in high school
Once, I secretly fell for a boy. I was only 17 at the time.
Our first encounter happened unintentionally. It was dusk, and the setting sun was like blood in the sky. As I passed by the basketball court, a graceful figure handling a basketball caught my eye.
From then on, there was a figure in my heart, sometimes clear, sometimes blurry.
Every time I saw him walking from a distance, my steps would become unusually light, and I would casually brush past him, my palms covered in a fine sweat.
Afterward, I would often regret it: why didn’t I greet him? At least, I could have nodded or smiled.
In front of the mirror, I practiced countless times, searching for the most beautiful smile and the most clever words, wanting to get to know him. But the courage always vanished as soon as he walked by.
In the second year of high school, we ended up in the same class. Overjoyed, I was full of hope. My heart began to yearn and anticipate even more.
He loved to laugh and talk loudly, which annoyed many who were focused on their studies. But for me, hearing his laughter and his voice was the greatest anticipation. Even though he never knew, there was a most loyal listener, carefully capturing every word he said.
I began to habitually sit sideways during every break, looking out the window—not for the scenery outside, but for him.
I watched him secretly but never dared to speak, afraid that words would taint the pure feelings I held.
More importantly, I was facing the college entrance exam, and I couldn’t let this emotion affect me.
Whenever I couldn’t control this budding feeling, I would remind myself with a famous saying: “Life is like a journey. The primary task is to keep moving forward, while appreciating the scenery is secondary. It’s more important to stay focused.”
The flowers outside the window bloomed and withered, withered and bloomed again. My feelings, too, ebbed and flowed like the seasons.
As the exam approached, days grew monotonous, and I gradually learned to focus my gaze on the densely packed words, binding my thoughts to the cold and intricate formulas. This emotion seemed to numb as well.
Finally, I was accepted into my dream university. A thin piece of paper comforted my parents’ expectations. While I was overjoyed, I felt a sense of loss.
In the beautiful university campus, I freely expressed my youth and beauty. That emotion soon became a cherished memory.
Now, looking back, I am still grateful that I never spoke up back then. Only then could that feeling become the most beautiful scenery in my life’s journey, allowing me to have the purest, truest taste of emotion that belonged solely to me.
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
