At the age of eighteen, it is the age of the beginning of love, and it is also the age of the most pure love. He ate his own food, and thought of ways to go around him, just to be able to look at him more, and when he saw it, he was nervous and afraid to look directly at him. When he left, everything about him was beautiful. Sticking window paper and paper-cuts for him in the snow, just because this house is where he works; even the broken bowl he used has become a favorite, and the fragments should be hidden in the cabinet like a treasure. He kept a word in his heart. He said that when he came back on the eighth day, he would wait for him when it snowed. He didn't come back and went to see him because of his illness. And he didn't take her back. He took a great political risk to come back to see her. Fortunately , they finally spent their lives together.
I really envy them, envy their strong and inseparable love, envy their simple and pure persistence, envy their ability to hold on to their pure and beautiful love to the end. However, what obstacles were they in those days? Big? Still persevering.
I often regret that I couldn’t get along with the man I fell in love with in the purest and most beautiful era, and I always complain about why there are so many obstacles and lack of fate between us. Who is to blame? Only myself Not enough persistence, not brave enough. How can a coward pick the most beautiful flower of love? Cheers
to those who bravely pursue love!
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