In the end, we still missed it without stopping...
When I was eleven years old, it was the first day of junior high school. In the classroom, I sat behind you, biting the cap of my pen, looking at the back of your head, secretly in a daze. That year, I met you.
When I was twelve years old, I was in the second grade of junior high school. As the seats moved around, there would always be one or two people between us. I somehow became a disciplinary committee member and always wrote down your name on the blackboard as a habit.
When I was thirteen years old, in the third year of junior high school. I started studying hard just to get into the high school of your choice. We sat farther and farther apart, and talked more and more on the way to school.
When I was fourteen years old, I was in the first year of high school. I was admitted to your favorite high school, but I gritted my teeth and chose another school after all. That year, I endured not contacting you. That year, people were very depressed.
When I was fifteen years old, I was a sophomore in high school. I met a boy who looks very similar to you. I was secretly moved, but enthusiastically helped him chase girls.
When I was seventeen years old, I studied in Germany. Before leaving, I met you again. Just like that bright afternoon many years ago, you walked towards me with a smile, waved, and said: "Hi!"
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