When he was seventeen years old, he boarded the green train in military uniform, opened the window and shouted: "Su Wan, wait for me to come back!"
I chased the train for half a street, crying and saying, "Okay, I'll wait for you."
This wait is ten years.
In ten years, he went from a new recruit to a captain, and I went from a freshman in the Department of Architecture to the director of a design institute.
In the past ten years, we have called, written, quarreled, broken up, made up, and broken up again, separated by 2,000 kilometers.
In the past ten years, his mother introduced him to the daughters of comrades again and again, and he disappeared again and again when I needed him most.
Ten years later, he added me on WeChat and said, "Wanwan, I regret it."
He said that he has not been married in these years, he said that he has been thinking about me, and he said that he will not let go of my hand this time.
I looked at that message and cried all night.
Then I said one word back to him.
I said yes.
But I forgot that the next sentence about breaking up and getting back together is always about making the same mistakes again.
(This article is a warning for cruelty, the heroine is super sober in the later period, and she chases her wife to the crematorium to the ashes)
