I forgot whether the air conditioner was turned on at that time, but I remembered that there were many traces of mosquito bites. We were sitting in the middle of the classroom, and the boy who was looking for roommates came in after class and sat in the last row. The music of the movie reverberates in my ears, and the scene is open and public. I don't know what the boy is watching at this moment, whether it is the beautiful roommate beside me or the life in the drama on the screen. I don't dare to look back at him, just turn my head slightly. To see her roommate completely immersed in it, her eyes were wet with tears, and the light from the screen was refracted in, shining brightly.
I didn't cry, although at that moment I thought I understood the helplessness of the people in the play, the changes of the world, involuntarily, and experienced vicissitudes in the blink of an eye, but that was the sorrow of others.
It's been a while since I graduated, and I can almost forget my day-to-day thoughts. I don't have to pretend to go back to my bedroom on the big bed before going to bed. I can gradually fall asleep without the familiar breathing sound and no one talking at night. Get used to losing some memory.
Then, I watched another Brad Pitt movie, searched, and strayed into the page of the years of love, and suddenly all the past love came back like a tide. At this moment, it is also a summer night, but it can't be returned. to the past. I was typing in front of a desk in one's bedroom, trying to restore that inexplicable throbbing happiness, but finally a piece was missing, the time that had passed and her who was farther and farther away.
She and he ended up missing out. It's all true love, but at that time each had their own fears. Meeting the right person at the wrong time is actually better than not seeing them. I don't deny that I'd love to see such a result, or I expected her rejection in the process, not because of the real boyfriend I didn't meet, but out of a feeling slightly higher than friendship, my wrong love .
Now I don't quite remember the detailed plot of the days of ignoring love. There are only a few colorful clips that flash with the music. They are beautiful but unreal, hazy, like a dream. Maybe everyone had an extremely dreamy encounter in the past, or even more. At that time, he was intoxicated, and after a while, it dissipated like a dream after dawn, leaving only the remaining memories as condolences.
A hundred people have a hundred years of love in their hearts, and each department is different. The plot changes immediately as the audience grows, gets sick, and dies. Memory is the best editor, bringing together people and things that were originally irrelevant. So, you and I will have their own years of burning love.
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