Will the firewood, rice, oil and salt consume your enthusiasm; the uninhabited northern Xinjiang, the extremely cold bitter land, except for the endless farms, is desolate. The exciting memories, fears, joys, and pains of the passing seasons are really unrecorded or not. This is the monotony that can't be seen day after day, and is even more sad because of the departure of the little angel, but life still has to go on. Life is like a pool of stagnant water without waves, and indulges in sorrow.
There was a person who met unexpectedly. When she appeared, the whole person came to life, began to think, and began to have other meanings. When you were there, I paid attention to every detail of your needs, how you dressed today, what did you say, in front of you I began to not speak, I just wanted to hear from you, you made the time not difficult, and let these days come back again and again The time of the day has meaning. In fact, we are not talking about each other more, but the inevitable other half of life. I started thinking about you when you weren't here. You seem to know me well, know everything I like, bring everything I like, and I don't know what's wrong with me. Then, you show your heart and we are together, Astonishment and joy.
Think about everything that happened while you were there, think about when you will come next time, think about what you are doing right now. I began to look forward to your arrival every day. You said to come at 5 o'clock, and I began to look forward to it from 3 o'clock. After you left, I was like a fallen leaf, I don't know where to go. If you haven't come, I'm terrified. I started to restless, I started to panic all day long, I started to be unable to calm down, I couldn't stop thinking about everything about you, whether you were thinking about me, whether you were good or not. I can't stop seeing you at first, wanting to know if you're okay and why you can't come to see me.
You left and took everything with you again, but this time, on those blank pages, in those diaries, it was you, in those exciting days, the days we were together, in those days when you were not, It's all written with my fears, my expectations, and my misses. And those extreme joys are engraved in the diary, in those day-to-day hours. Then. Everything stopped on the day you left, and the pain in the sky overwhelmed me.
Tully, Tully, Tully. I hear you calling me, here I am, and where are you.
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