She was a pretty girl, so pretty that most of us could not help turning back to have more glances of her.Her smile, her figure or the expression on her face impressed people so much. Nature has endowed her with so much beauty that other ladies would envy her beauty sceretly.Many yong men were always talking about her in their spare time, some of us even sent her flowers or cards to express love for her. It was beyond us that why she declinedto date any of them. Gracefulyl and gently, whenever she appeared , her presence was just like a pebble dropped into a pool to set in motion an ever-widening circle of ripples.Though we know that beauty is skin deep, we still couldnot resist the temptation to appreciate her beauty.I never dreamed that one day we would have a story, it turned out that we began to date.As we got closer to each other,I knew more about her family and her story. Behind her beauty and her grace, there was something deep in the innermost part of her heart, which she would not relate to others. Though fragile and tender, she was mentally strong. One evening, we strolled in a small park, there stood a samll pavillion, we used to sat there at dawn, talking about our dreams, our futures or anything that came to our minds. She used to lean against me and I would sing an English song to her. " Five hundred miles". The medoly was a bit somber though. "If you miss the train I am gone, you will know that I am gone, you can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles'.I promised her that I will never miss the train she was on. The willow leaves were rustling to the gentle breeze, and moon stealthily peered at us from the clouds.She sheded her tears at my my blue song and told me everything about her.She had to work extremely hard, what was worse,she was born with certain illness.That was the first time that I fell in love. We had a wonderful time together, I did not care about others' remarks. Due to some reasons , we finally parted. We loved each other deeply, and it was neither's fault to say goodbye. In fact, I could not remember the detailed facts,but our love story was bound to end in bitterness.So many years have passed, we each went our own ways. Seldom did we have a chance to encouter though we live not far from each other. I only know that she doesn't live as happily as she deserves.Many a time, I crossed my fingers and prayed for her. It is my hope that life treats her kind and her husband loves her dearly.Though she doesn't belong to me, I never regret we once loved. I once jokingly said to her during our courtship, "when I died, sing no sad song to me,I just want my tomb read"I came,I lived, I loved."Now when I recalled our past and my joke, tears welled up and the melody of that song once again sounds:" If you miss the train I am on, you will know that I am gone, you can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles." Long gone are days when we loved each other, what will never fade away are the momeories of love. People say, "happiness is a journey, not a destination", and to me, "love is attitude, not just a happy ending." And I have come to realize that love like you've never been hurt,or even if you have been hurt, never hesitate to love.
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buried memory of first love
[Source: wpsba.com | Author:sanwazi |I hesitate for a long time whether to write about it.In the end, I decided to write something about it. But to tell you the truth, some of them are based on my personal experiences, some are not. If you will, enjoy it, if you will not, forget it.Take it lightly or take it as a kind of fiction.
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