In a cry, I came to this world.
That year, he was 10 years old.
From my mother's description, I could vaguely see the boy sitting in front of the closet, in a stiff posture, holding a baby the size of a thermos. So serious, so careful, so careful.
In this way, our lives intersected.
But 10 years have made us strangers again. He is no longer in my world, and I am no longer in his world. Some are just his cautious and warm embrace when he was 10 years old.
However, every time his concern and care make me feel warmer and feel that his tenderness only belongs to me. But today, there is a third person between the two of us, the person with whom we will spend the rest of our lives. His eyes were no longer focused on me, and the person he was picking up food for became her. That person I envy her.
We are like two crossed lines, getting farther and farther apart.
The only things that belong to me are those big gloves when I feel cold, and the occasional care, which only belongs to my sister.
For 10 years, we can only get along as brother and sister. 10 Years have made us strangers.
Conception: