The rain in the south always carries an inexhaustible moisture, covering the ginkgo trees in Yuxian Middle School, and also covering the thoughts hidden in the notes of boys and girls. The first encounter was a startling glance beside a puddle, followed by awkward approaches in other people's names, whispers during class, and pink notebooks, all of which became the foreshadowing of a secret.
The shouts at the sports meeting, the temptations in the twilight, and the origami confessions in the noon self-study have shattered the tacit understanding above AUO into pieces. The countdown to the high school entrance examination suppressed the unconscious throbbing. She deliberately dodged, but he restrained himself completely. The tenderness hidden in the morning jog and long jump could not withstand the pull of time.
Later, the wind dispersed and the rain stopped, and he rushed to a distant place with his youthful worries, writing a new chapter in his new life, with new scenery around him. And her belated awakening only encountered empty memories.
The rain has not yet dried, the paper has turned yellow, the boat has no shore, and the words are silent. That period of youth that went in both directions but ended up being misplaced became an inextricable regret that she was trapped in time alone. The phrase "I like you too" was trapped in the illusion of memories, and after all, I couldn't expect a response.
