Tear Jerking Love Story
When I was in my first year of high school, I would see the girl from the apartment above mine walking home every day after school with a boy. He would walk her home daily, escorting her all the way to the entrance of our residential complex.
I remember that boy had very clear skin, and he smiled even more often than I did. He was so beautiful that he looked almost prettier than a girl. The girl, on the other hand, always looked serious and wasn’t particularly good-looking. However, I often heard the adults in our building talk about how excellent her grades were and how well-behaved she was.
Sometimes on weekends, he would stand in the garden downstairs waiting for her to come out, but he seemed too shy to approach her directly, so he would just linger around the garden. My friends and I would play nearby, and occasionally, one of them would casually ask him, “Waiting for her?” “Which class are you in?” my friend would ask, and he would answer briefly. Otherwise, he never looked up or spoke much. His eyes were incredibly clear, and when he smiled, they would curve into crescents.
I never spoke to him, not even once. But when I saw how stern the girl always was, and how the adults constantly praised her, I couldn’t help but feel a slight irritation toward her—though I kept it to myself.
One cold winter morning, I saw him waiting downstairs for her. When I walked by, he smiled at me. It wasn’t flirtatious, just a polite smile. I suddenly stopped in my tracks and quietly observed him, noticing the tiny snowflakes settling on his shoulders. I stood there silently, waiting with him, though he had no idea.
I’ve always been afraid of the cold, but that day I stood there, quietly keeping him company, not knowing why. When I saw her slowly walk downstairs, saying the road was slippery, I quickly jogged away.
At the beginning of the second year of high school, on the day of the opening exams, I unexpectedly found myself in the same exam room as him. I quietly watched his back, wanting to say something, but not knowing what to say. Occasionally, when he turned around, his eyes were still those same smiling crescents.
During the three-day holiday in early October, I stayed home and studied intensely. Many times, I looked out the window to see if I could spot them, but I never did.
When the holiday ended, a rumor began spreading like wildfire at school.
“Did you hear? A boy went to a girl’s house for a date, and her dad caught them.”
“Her parents were supposed to be out of town, so he dared to visit. But who could have guessed her dad would suddenly come back to pick something up?”
“Her dad walked in on them kissing, and the boy was so terrified that he fell off the balcony and died instantly.”
“Who are you talking about?” I suddenly felt a wave of fear. I couldn’t even hear my own voice.
“It’s the girl who lives above you and her boyfriend.”
I quietly closed my eyes, standing there unable to move.
When I got home, I asked my grandmother about it. She said that her father hadn’t even been angry with them, but the boy was so frightened that he fell. I silently looked down from our balcony; they lived on the fifth floor. A fall from that height—how gruesome it must have been. I thought about his clear skin, his crescent-moon eyes, and felt a soft sadness wash over me. I never got the chance to see her again, to know how she reacted, how sad or heartbroken she was.
And so, time passed, and by the time we were in our final year of high school, no one talked about him anymore.
During the exams at the beginning of our third year, I saw her name at the top of the rankings. She seemed proud, just like before. At the school assembly, she was as serious as ever, raising her head stubbornly, not looking to the sides. When they took her photo, she quickly smiled—a brief, fleeting smile that seemed almost mischievous.
I suddenly thought of that boy. I had no idea what she looked like when she was sad for him or how she cried for him. I quietly left the sports field, turning my back on the thousands of people cheering and talking behind me. I left silently.
I knew they didn’t care because it was all in the past. She couldn’t let her future be ruined by her feelings. I knew I shouldn’t care either because none of it really had anything to do with me.
But I just wanted to leave, just leave. The people behind me were clapping and laughing; no one would notice me leaving.
I knew no one understood me, no one understood me. And at that moment, tears flowed uncontrollably.
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
