In the summer when she was sixteen, Hua Nan was in a cram school and saw a boy's eyes lighting up before his mouth when he solved a function problem. She remembered that light.
Later, she opened his notebook, and there was a line written on the title page: "I have fought for everything, and success or failure is not up to me." She copied that sentence and put it in her notebook. She didn't know that this sentence would stay with her for a long time.
In the past ten years, she learned the R language and wrote his name in the code; she forged iron paintings and did not send them out even though her hands were burned; she wrote acknowledgments in the paper and deleted an entire paragraph about him. After taking the postgraduate entrance examination three times, I finally went to the city I wanted to go to. On the beach in Xiamen, she sent four words: "I miss you very much."
She wrote him a letter. It begins with "Awu, seeing the words is like seeing the face." He wrote back, saying that he had just received the rejection letter that summer, and his heart was gray—that beam of light he had also used to illuminate himself.
Later she discovered that he was not a perfect moon. He also has potholes. But he is still precious. She never loves a perfect person, she loves a real, limited, but clean person.
She finally dared to ask: "Does he like me?" But she no longer needed the answer.
There is moonlight outside the window. Not for looking up to. Just lighting the way on her desk.
This is a story about watching. She spent ten years looking at one person, and finally discovered that the true meaning of that look was not to let him know, but to let her complete a path herself.
Purpose: This article is adapted from a true story. It tells how a person completed his own growth in ten years of watching - not waiting for a response, but becoming himself.