I haven't graduated yet and she is still teaching.
We often meet, often look at each other, but never say a word.
From the sweet orange in the afternoon that year to the hurried glances in the corridor,
I secretly looked at her in the crowd, and she occasionally looked at me.
So close, so far away.
No confession, no intersection, no result.
There was only one scene, and no one dared to get close first. It was a long and drawn-out scene.
——It turns out that the most regretful thing is not parting, but that we can still meet each other, but we can only pretend to be strangers.
Intention: Some heartbeats start in a moment, but end with identity and timidity. We were on the same campus, looking at each other from a distance, passing each other in silence, and our unspoken love turned into the ultimate pull of a whole youth.