Thus I Am Exiled

When the wind blows, it stirs up old sorrows, Like the cheap revelry of an entire season. Let’s start over, like a dream, like a flower. All those years, she was only waiting. Waiting for him to come out so she could tell him, “I’m leaving. Bye-bye.” Cong Jiajia wasn’t much of a talker, but she thought more than most. Maybe only a girl like her could keep a secret crush going for ten whole years. There was nothing shameful about falling for Ji Feng. It was just her bad luck that she met Qian Cheng right when everyone knew she loved Ji Feng. He indulged her and adored her, her childhood sweetheart; He understood and cherished her, her dear friend and confidant. One was the blazing sun, fierce as fire; The other, a bright and gleaming moon. Cong Jiajia’s way of life was to insist on finishing the particle at the end of her first sentence, even if the fire had reached her eyebrows, before moving on to the next. With a careful heart and keen eyes, she thought things through three times before acting, and had read all the classics. But when faced with the desires and passions of life, even she could hardly make sense of it all. Her heart twisted and turned; the world was soft and red, and only he stayed by her side in silence. The past came back again and again, with a hundred tender memories and a thousand reasons not to let go. She never should have, never should have... She stubbornly wanted to see her first love through to the end. When you start middle school, you look back and miss how carefree you were in elementary school. In high school, you think middle school was easy. At college, you miss your high school friends, and once you start working, you look back fondly on the innocence and romance of college. That is how life goes. We’re always a little too slow to recognize the happiness right in front of us, always dwelling on the past. If you insist on seeing everything through to the end, you may turn today into tomorrow’s regret. When love reaches its end, the only person you’ve exiled is yourself. Why can’t happiness be as simple as opening a box? Theme: