I'm crossing the road where are you

My current girlfriend and I have never realized that it is less than three months now. I proposed to marry me during dinner last Thursday. She said yes. She called her parents and told them that they had seen each other. I heard everyone on the phone. All were relieved. I know they were really worried for a while. Since I broke up with the last two years ago and came home under the rain, I was very depressed for a while, eating a lot of food every day, and still can't stop losing weight. I never believe in the only one. I feel that every experience of loving and being loved is nothing more than to prove the possibility of love. It's not easy. In the past six months, I suddenly felt that my leaves had fallen out. The leaves that were once thick and lush like hair all faded silently, and they stood in place awkwardly and easily. At this time, she appeared, it was the right time. She is very good, not a few years away from me, she is very childish when she laughs, but she does things with a sense of proportion. On weekends, we went to the supermarket together to buy big buckets of yogurt and a lot of vegetables. When we went back to cook together, it was really unpalatable. In the exhausted afternoon, we slept indiscriminately until the evening, got up and looked for a drink in the refrigerator. Half of the red wine, kissing for a long time, the smell is very familiar. But recently, there is often a moment of dazzling, like eyes covered with a drop of tears, the feeling of needing to blink before seeing clearly, especially when she is silent, or sits curled up on the sofa to read a book, or hangs clothes on the balcony. , I stared at her, but I was thinking of another person. It was actually a very short moment, but because of this very short moment of infidelity, I felt very guilty.
I have never talked about this person before, because there is really nothing to talk about. We are probably not even ordinary friends, and most people don't even know that we know each other. Even every time I met, I basically didn't talk much. This may be why I always think of her in the moments of silence and silence, like a silent flame in the winter. Compared to the more noisy relationship afterwards, there is always a kind of gratitude that is shining silently. .
My middle school days were not very smooth. My grades in mathematics, physics and chemistry were too late. Although I felt depressed, I still read a lot of novels and comics in my free time. On the shipwreck. At that time, my mind was probably consumed in this chronic and long-lasting anxiety like a low-grade fever, and there were not many memorable things in the whole three years. One day without warning, she walked to the door of our class and gave me a letter, which was regarded as acquaintance.
The letter is still in the drawer of my home desk. Every time I go back during winter and summer vacations, I remember that there is such a letter somewhere in that old desk, but I have never looked it out again. Her writing is very beautiful, dark blue pen. Lying in the box with this letter were the notes she kept handing over for half a year since this letter until graduation. A variety of different colored pens are written on a variety of different papers. I think it's awkward to meet every day to get letters, so I suggest that she write them in an abandoned mailbox outside the school's carpentry class. She has a boyfriend. I often see her sitting by the court watching his tall boyfriend play basketball. Both of them have healthy dark skin, and they are very beautiful together. More than once in the night, I imagined their affectionate appearance. Fingers clasped fingers, thin ankles and diamond-like sweat across the brown skin. So I didn't say hello to her, nor did I look into her eyes. I just checked from time to time to see if there were any letters written in the abandoned mailbox.
One afternoon, I saw her walking forward from a distance on the way from school. I was riding on an old bicycle, wondering if I should say hello. Finally stopped by her side, she raised her head and looked at me, as if she was interrupted in some kind of contemplation, but she kept walking and didn't speak. We just walked forward side by side like this. Later, when I reached the fork in the road home, I knew her house was going to go further, and whispered, I'm leaving. She said, oh.
The last letter in high school said that she was going to another place where she was going to transfer because the scores there were relatively low. It seems that there is no mention of goodbye and so on, it's entirely in a matter-of-fact tone. Since then until graduation, I have never seen her again. Occasionally, I still go to the old mailboxes, they are all empty. I will also see her tall boyfriend in the cafeteria. Many times I want to go up and say hello, but every time I don't know where to start. That was an era when there was no mobile phone number, QQ number, and mailbox to exchange. If a person disappears, like dew falling into a pool, it can disappear completely.
Once I listened to a classmate chatting at the dinner table, and suddenly chatting about her, I just pricked my ears and listened. They said that when she was in junior high school, she liked the other boy in our class very much, and the two of them were also very harmonious, but the family had a lot of trouble because of the premature love, and in the end they didn't get together. I also know that boy, with a fair complexion.
Another day without warning, she called my house and asked me if I had time to watch a movie. I think I have always been free, but no one has ever asked about it. I said yes, where to go? She said I took the movie to your house. This is an unexpected answer, but pretending to be calm and saying, okay, come on. My parents are eating next to each other, and their ears should be erect. I said that a classmate wants to come to watch a movie at home. My mother said, okay, there are fruits and drinks at home, so I need to go to the refrigerator to get them. I didn't ask if it was a male or female.
I was actually very nervous. She opened the door and welcomed her in. She greeted her uncle and aunt generously, and went to the computer in my bedroom. In fact, not many classmates have been to my home. When I was in elementary school, my classmates went there. My parents made dumplings diligently and kept serving people with vegetables, so that I didn't invite my classmates to go. Pour her a glass of water, ask her to sit down on the chair, and put the disc directly into the buzzing optical drive. It's a French film with a lot of sex scenes. I just chatted with her by the way, in fact, it was more like a question and an answer.
Still with him?
here I am. No one else can be found.
What is he doing?
small business.
How about you?
Help him. living together.
The movie ended soon. I sent her out. She said goodbye to her uncle and aunt. Then we went down the stairs in silence and walked for a while on the traffic-bound street together. She said, go back. I said, all right.
We exchanged mobile phone numbers, QQ numbers, and mailbox numbers. Never contacted since.
I still have this number in my phone. Last Thursday night in the taxi going home, I looked up again. I dare not call, I'm afraid they say, I'm sorry, the user you dialed has been down.
However, this is not a big deal after all. It's just that I was about to cross to the other side of the road, and I thought of you by accident.

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