Xu Yanqing always felt that he was someone who grew up in Chen Ye's shadow.
Their mothers were best friends who grew up wearing a skirt, so as long as he could remember, he was used to having a boy around him who always pulled the collar of his school uniform to his collarbone. Chen Ye's sneakers are always stained with grass clippings from the playground, and his fangs show when he smiles. Love letters are stuffed into his desk like snowflakes, and Xu Yanqing is just the one who draws a little sun in the corner of the draft paper when helping him organize his exercise books - the sun is the shape of Chen Ye, and he is the shadow that always chases the light.
During the three years of high school, Chen Ye had three girlfriends, and each one looked as beautiful as if they were carved from the same mold: they had high ponytails and a coquettish coquettish voice when they spoke. When handing him water on the sidelines of the basketball court, her fingertips would accidentally brush against his sweaty wrists. Xu Yanqing counted these moments, folded his thoughts into paper boats, and put them into the drainage ditch in the back alley of the school—until the day of the graduation dinner, with alcohol burning in his veins, he followed Chen Ye into the grove smelling of locust flowers.
"I like you."
The wind lifted the corners of Chen Ye's school uniform, and Xu Yanqing saw his retreating steps. The boy who was always surrounded by girls looked like a crushed star at the moment, but in the end he just hugged him, as if he was taking away the unspoken secrets of his entire youth.
Some people become silhouettes in memory once they turn around. When Xu Yanqing thinks of Chen Ye in the winter in a foreign country, he always touches the tattoo on the inside of his wrist. The tiny word "wild" is hidden in the place where his pulse beats. Chen Ye, who was thousands of miles away, rummaged through the junk box and found a scrap of paper tucked into "Selected Poems of Byron". It was full of drawings of his profile when dunking, and crookedly written in the corner: "Brother Ye's eyes are like holding the Milky Way."
In September, when the chirping of cicadas gradually subsided, the sunshine at the university orientation suddenly became very much like that summer. Xu Yanqing walked through the corridor holding the book and ran into someone's arms that smelled of cedar. When he looked up, Chen Ye's fangs flashed in the sun, and he was holding the paper boat he didn't dare to hand out back then - the ink in the folds had long been blurred, but he could still make out the words "I like you" soaked by the rain.
Some regrets are like an unopened love letter, the cover is covered with the dust of time, but the moment it is opened, all the rainy seasons will clear up.
Purpose: Taking the misplaced secret love of childhood sweethearts as the context, it shows how the regrets buried in youth due to low self-esteem and ignorance can become the key to understanding the heart in the folds of time - the so-called "regrets" are actually love letters written by the God of Love to teenagers. When you wait to open them many years later, you will eventually understand: the look up in your eyes has long been the instinctive dependence of the other person engraved in the bones and blood.