Growing up is murder.

Growing up is murder.
It is said that life is too long. May we still hug each other tomorrow.

Wen /Tongc

A few days ago, I was listening to the radio in bed very early, when suddenly a good friend called. He said that he had just come back from out of town, and he felt that he had a lot of unthemed words to say. I said, Oh, come on, I haven't slept yet. After about two hours of talking about everyone's study, school or all kinds of interesting things, his tone on the other end of the phone began to falter, and I asked, "is it about her?" He took out a stack of letters and told me at the other end of the video that she had sent it to him this semester. I asked him what you actually think of her now, and he said, I made a deal with her to give everyone a year's time. If you think so after a year, that's it.

half a year ago, on the same night, he and I told me that he would take ten years to fulfill his promise to her, because he no longer liked her as he did at that time, but he had promised her that they would be together after college, so he would refrain from liking others for the next ten years, even if he didn't like her. He will also make good on this promise.

I told him that night, even in a disdainful tone, not to mention ten years, this is impossible for too long, too many things will change. That night, he didn't believe what I said, and I didn't believe him either. But we think each other is right.

from ten years to one year, it only took six months for the same person to say it.

I am not meant to be unkind, because one of the ideas I always firmly believe in is that all true promises must be true at that moment, even if they are not fulfilled afterwards.

I think that time can change too much, too much, too deep.

I don't know if it's because it hasn't been determined yet, just like many people around me say that I can't decide what I want to do, there is no fixed place to stay, and there is never a fixed person around me. A sentence from an acquaintance around me: "how can someone like you become a teacher in the future?"

but why do I feel like I'm going to have a phobia of getting old?

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I think I was murdered.

I can't tell whether I was murdered by time or by myself or something in time.

once at the station, my mother waved to me three times. I quickly compared a "phone call" gesture to my right ear, and then I hastily typed this paragraph on the memo. Just the moment I looked at her looking at me, I suddenly realized that somehow I had crossed a line, which was only a few months. Before that, I thought I only needed to finish all my expectations in the top five of the exam. But now I wonder if I have gone to another new stage and left her here alone to grow old. I was caught off guard by an unprecedented sense of responsibility, and I found that I had more to worry about.

I said in a disorganized group today, "recently I often think that I will be 19 in two months, and I have a feeling of panic." as a result, eel whales and thorns have returned to me. " I know they must feel so young and showing off? What is nineteen years old? is it old? Yeah.

but all the signs show that my former youth seems to have been murdered by time, and I can't help asking time whether I have grown up or been murdered.

at the beginning of the semester, I was questioned by the counselor alone because I scored too high in some psychological tests. at that time, she asked me if I was dating. I laughed first, and then said no. She asked me what your ideal love would be like, I said, in my ideal, probably not, do not think about it. There was surprise in her eyes at that time, but she didn't ask, and I didn't say it, because I thought she thought everyone at this age should expect something, but I didn't.

when I was in the third year of high school, I was always alone. At about six o'clock in the afternoon, I was at the end of the corridor on the other side of the empty classroom on the sixth floor, where I could see half of the East side. I was there because I was quiet enough to see the sunset and the high lights on the East side, such as "Old Dongguan Hotel", lit up one by one in the night, as if to take over the duties of Sunlight, taking turns. Once, I looked at the opposite community, the living room of the warm orange chandelier lit up, that time I watched and cried, I said, I also want to have this opportunity, a warm place and a safe environment.

I always tell people that I am old, don't tell me that, I may have passed that mood, like a person to love a person, need to be the same, I want a stable and safe belonging, sometimes I think that if I believe what they say, "you will eventually wait for what you want", if I believe that there is really a safe and happy return in the future. I wish I could sit on the shuttle and get to that age and place over the past few years.

"if I like someone very much, I may not want to be with him. I think it doesn't matter if I don't have to worry about it, but I know I won't leave if it gives me enough security that I don't have to worry about." "so that's why you keep giving people the feeling of being bitterly cold?" "I was just trying to protect myself."

I think I was murdered by something in time, which was someone else's murder plan.

Last night, I was on the patio outside the dessert shop downstairs. Several friends made an appointment for a drink and talked about the common past. They all said that it seemed not long before, and felt that we were the only ones left together during that period of time.

I didn't say anything. I raised the back of my stool, leaned back, looked at the gray-black night sky, and said, "what a beautiful moon tonight."

in fact, I couldn't see where the moon was at that time.

when I went back to the neighborhood and walked downstairs, I pointed to the balcony and asked Q, and I said, do you remember me that night?Lovelorn, you and I stood there, we drank water, did not say anything.

Q says, remember.

I said, why did it take so long to blink?