Limited to 50
Youth is a bright sadness.
When we meet, our thoughts are like white clouds; when we have them, our hearts are like rain and dew; when we miss them, our hearts are like quicksand; when we look back, they are as quiet as blue and quiet at night.
Childhood promises cannot withstand the test of time and years. When childhood is gone, when youth is gone, the former vows of eternal love are just the withered sycamore flowers under the sycamore tree. They are blown gently by the wind, leaving no trace.
Eighteen years ago, under the flowering sycamore tree, he held her hand and said affectionately: "I want you to be my bride."
Eighteen years later, even though the distance between them was only a finger, she could no longer find her shadow in his eyes. Every time she saw him walking past her, talking and laughing with his girlfriend like a stranger, she seemed to hear her heart breaking to the ground and never being able to pick it up again. It turns out that their encounter was just a misunderstanding. At that moment, she was strong and looked up to the sky, and finally cried and smiled: "It's over. From now on, no one can let my green years roll around in place." But at this time, she didn't know that his warm and sunny smile meant that his injured heart was bleeding for her. It's not that he doesn't love her anymore, it's just that his heart has been completely eroded by lies.