Taste appreciation period

That's when you tell your friends you want to go to lots and lots of places.

You are walking in the corridor while counting how many places you want to go, and your friends are behind you with a stinking face Shouting, high-minded guy, leave here to see who accompany you every day.

You turned to her and took her hand, with a rather flattering smile, and said you could go with me. Friends shake hands and tell you to go, first to pass the English exam.

The so-called friends in the end can be good like what, CD player headphones each wear a, no matter who plays the CD can sing along softly. When I was embarrassed to buy books and CDS, I pooled my money together to buy a bowl of rice noodles to eat. Sit by the lake and read your favorite lyrics to her, laughing in the middle. When you are in trouble, she will not hesitate to say "where are you? I will find you", and when you are sad, she will cry without feeling ashamed and say "I am suffering. Please come here quickly". You feel that if you take a ruler to measure the friendship can be extended to the far side of the end.

Finally, you promise her, "You're the first person I call in any city or country."

Six years later, standing halfway around the world and calling you are your best friend.

Your eyes are red from working late, and your voice is stuffy because you haven't spoken all night. You listen to the noise over there saying, "Where are you now?" There was a pause. "Just got off the plane. Now in Saskatchewan." You try to look interested and ask, "What's next? What's the next city to visit?"

Where do you want to go? I want to go to many, many places.

Canada, United States, France, United Kingdom, Japan, Spain.

So to be more specific, Saskatchev, New York, Paris, London, Tokyo, Madrid.

Where you will reach, how far you can go.

At that time, the person who said to go far away is who, did she think of a way back.

And then one day, a long time later, you look at the caller ID on your phone and you can't remember who it was. You answer the phone and listen to the other person's voice, but still can't recognize who it is. Finally, you say to the noisy voice, please. After waiting for a long gap, all you hear is a muffled cry from over there.

It's not just that, of course.

You met him when you were in high school. You met him under a tree during lunch break. He smiled at you with a little smile. When you were about to blush, he suddenly said, "My dear fellow, I estimate that the grain of rice stuck to your cheek has been on it for thirty minutes."

You see at once that it takes such a short time to extinguish the illusion.

When he was 17, he told you, "I think we'll be together for a long time."

You look at him with disdain. What else can you do but talk sweet!

When he graduated at the age of 18, he said to you, I like you, the most like. It took a lot of courage and a lot of thought to tell you!

At that time, you think who is loved by the confession should be happy and shy, why only you have to fight with a body of goosebumps, you waved against the nausea, OK, I approved.

When you were 21, he dropped you off downstairs and said, baby, I love you.

When you get home, you lie in bed and can't sleep. Do you think those stories that become lovers and say "I like you" have to struggle for a long time? Is it in animation or manga? It's all bullshit. There is no shortage of such communication between you. On the contrary, if you say for a long time, "I love you" then I want to eat no different. You're becoming less stingy in this area, not because there are times when people who aren't shy are shy. Just know each other for too long, in one day you and his night call to sleep until he won't let you hang up, you half asleep say I love you, please I want to sleep. Then you snap back to your senses and hang up the phone for a long time.

When I was 23 you called him at 12 o 'clock, he sounded tired, he said I was working overtime. You said I was going to hang up. What did he say it was about? You said happy birthday. He was surprised. It's my birthday. I forgot all about it. It's okay, you say it. You go ahead. Take care of your body.

25 years old, that year suddenly lost, so separated for a while. One day, when you meet at a restaurant, you both have company. In the evening, he took you home and quietly watched you go upstairs. When you turned on the light in the room, the phone rang out. When you connected the phone, you heard his muffled voice. You wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Did you say that the girl who came with you was your girlfriend?

So they got back together.

When you were 26, you saw him shopping with young girls, and you came home and said nothing.

When I was 27, I split up, and then I got back together.

Obviously moved less and less, but the separation is like a lack of something, together and can not go on. On and off, one year, two years, three years. I'm used to it. Those dreams I had years ago, when you and him were sitting by the fireplace in the old house, and it was freezing outside the window, and you leaned against him and he would occasionally put out his foot and he would reach out and pinch your nose, it really was just a dream. When you are bored, you will also think that you may not love, but you do not know how to love.

We like things for how long.

You get tired of listening to a song after a few days.

It's time to change a drink after a few months.

How about being alone for a few years? It's time to move on.

You think of the days when you and he shared an umbrella when you were both sixteen, when he held it with the handle clearly leaning towards you and half of his shoulder was wet.

Time can't go back, you think it's really over.

The rest of your thirties, forties, fifties, or the rest of your life will have nothing to do with him.

How long can a kind of moved to preserve.

The rose you received in your hand faded in a few days. Can the aroma remain in your memory?

Do you remember the melody of the song you once heard that became obsolete after a few years?

It has already cleared up and you hold an umbrella is no longer that person, the umbrella is still standing in your corner.

I wonder if you'll ever forget all that.

It's like everything has a deadline. Love or friendship, and much, much more.

Process, frustration, time, reality, whatever it was made him expire. You hear the muffled cry, you know the emotional transition, you know the mood change. You are so sorry and helpless.

When you stop in such a beautiful and cold place, after a long time to look back, the opposite bank is still young just, the plane trees on both sides of the straight line, boys or girls all the way to shake the rush, laughter in the ears. So you turned around and covered your wet eyes with your hands.

And then you understand.

We really love, really sad, the original is only a few years.