On the day after the college entrance examination, he asked me to meet. I wore the most beautiful white dress and waited for four hours.
He didn't come.
The phone is off, QQ is gray, and the curtains downstairs are tightly drawn. It's like he never existed.
Four years later, I found a letter in my college mailbox. A kraft paper envelope with no sender and the postmark date is the day of the college entrance examination.
There was only one photo inside - me standing at the intersection waiting for him, with a line of words written on the back: "I saw you that day. You were beautiful."
Later, the tin box came, filled with flattened toffee wrappers, each one taped with tape and numbered.
The tape was brought, and his voice said over the sound of electricity: "While I was still alive, I was always worried that these arrangements would fall through."
The letters came one after another, as if he had written them long ago and was counting the time to send them to me.
I found my drawing of the cat on the edge of his textbook with the words "I saw it too" written next to it.
I found vague numbers on the back of the candy wrappers he saved. I don't know if they were numbers or dates.
I found a memory card full of sycamore leaves in his camera, and took pictures from the tender green in the first year of high school to the sunset in the third year of high school. The last one is me.
Four years. He missed the date for four years. He divided his life into letters and sent them to me one by one.
And he stopped at nineteen forever.
"The eighteen-year-old Shen Ci belongs only to the seventeen-year-old Lin Zhi."
#BEEarly Warning # Epistolary Companion #Sunshine and Cheerful Shen Ci×Sensitive and Slow-heat Lin Zhi
Intention: Cherish the present and live well, because someone has lived for you for the tomorrow that you have not been able to live.
