That autumn, the wind was slightly cool, and the fallen leaves were spread on the road, like layers of soft memories. I attended an unfamiliar event, wrote a letter, and sent it to someone I had never met. There are emotions in the letter that I can't express, and there are also some unsolvable confusions. I didn't expect a response, but occasionally I couldn't help but wonder: What would it feel like if there really was a response?
One afternoon, I seemed to have really waited for it. A letter lay quietly in my hand, and the handwriting was so familiar that it made me feel trance-like. The letter was not long, but there was a warmth between the lines that was hard to ignore. I wrote a reply with an unspeakable expectation, like waiting for the wind to blow the corner of the season. I never expected that the other party's reply would be so timely. When I couldn't wait to open the envelope, the touch in my hand suddenly disappeared... It turned out... I woke up from the dream.
In the days that followed, life remained peaceful. Zhaoyan and I sat under the shade of the campus trees as usual, occasionally chatting about trivial topics and occasionally remaining silent. That day she hesitated to speak. I leaned on her shoulder, closed my eyes, and listened to the sound of the wind turning the pages of the book. The setting sun shines on the shadow of chamomile, swaying. When I opened my eyes again, there was only a silent glow in the sky. This ray of light was so quiet that it seemed to be hiding some kind of answer, but I didn't ask any further.
This is a shallow dream about waiting, relief and growth. It does not ask about the return date, but only sighs at the sound of autumn, leaving everyone with a silent answer.
Concept: How can emotions be judged only by their results? What is a good result? In the memory of youth, have you ever waited for someone's response? Is it out of longing for the future or confusion about the present? Have you ever had an undelivered letter, or an emotion that you dare not touch? If the wait yields no results, is it still worth it? If someone can only stay in your dreams, is it enough to relieve you in reality? The meaning of love and life, is it to obtain or to feel the unfinished beauty? When you stand in the autumn and watch the chamomile swaying in the wind, are you willing to believe that every unexpected encounter has its own unique tenderness?