In 2003, No. 1 Middle School of the city. Seventeen-year-old Wang Lin first smelled the sun-drenched quilt-like scent of Liu Yang's body in the basketball gym - warm, fluffy, and fleeting. He didn't know what it was, he just thought it was a freshener for the arena.
Later he found out that it was Liu Yang.
A quiet and restrained top student, a bright and flamboyant sports student. The two people are like phosphorus and sulfur. They are written "P+S=?" On the title page of the chemistry textbook. The answer has been empty for many years. Liu Yang took the initiative to get closer, gave her an exclusive prefix, held hands, risked kissing when his teammates turned their heads, and pressed Wang Lin's hand on his leg in the dark theater. He said, "It would be great if you were a girl," and then said, "It's all your dreams." In the three years of high school, they did everything they could except the last step.
Wang Lin thought this was the beginning.
After the college entrance examination, he disappeared like a cliff. No explanation, no goodbye. Liu Yang went from "being in front of me every day" to "never seeing him again." Wang Lin spent ten years repeatedly piecing together the fragments - the hug was real, the kiss was real, the heartbeat was real - but how could a "real" thing be just gone?
He denied himself for ten years and translated leaving as "I'm not good enough".
Until one day, he tried to change the translation: He gave all he could, and then he had no more. As a seventeen-year-old person, holding something so hot in his hand, he didn't know what else to do except throw it away.
The sun once illuminated him. After the sun went out, it took him many years to learn to stand up on his own.
This is not a "why he left" story. This is a story about "how people who are left in place slowly loosen their fists that have been clenched for too long."
Concept: I have smelled the sun, and it took me many years to learn to let go of my sunburned fist.