The moon knows what I want to say

"Come to me and we will see the moon together."

　　There were no more words, but it was still like sweet rain falling in the desert.

　　All the way, looking up at the moon, I couldn't help but think: so many people have written about her throughout the ages, but has she ever told us anything? No, the moon doesn't speak. The thought of rejection filled the whole mind.

　　"Here we are, young man."

　　"Oh, thank you, uncle."

　　The busy life and conditions do not allow has long to be indifferent to our contact, perhaps still have some memories, but the years wasted will also be the only gift of this relationship swallowed. The rain a few days ago left a small puddle on the road, stepping in and watching the water ripple away, silently smiling. I also feel that I have become strange, yet I feel so calm.

　　"Still stepping in puddles like a child, huh?"

　　"Since when do you still use my lines?"

　　No need to look up from the familiar conversation, smile at each other, and walk in companionship.

　　"I'll carry your school bag, you lead the way."

　　"Thanks, I don't know my way around, and ......"

　　"And what?"

　　"I can't see the moon on the road."

　　Looking up, another silent smile, "Wouldn't the moon tell you the way?"

　　She walked toward the place where the moonlight shone brightest, past the pond that was muddy and couldn't see the bottom, past the path that left the moisture, and stopped at the small, empty square where there were no buildings around and was naturally bright.

　　"Nothing to say?" It seemed that the silence all the way around did not sit well with her.

　　Then say it, I pull east and west, this together, that broke up, and the teacher got married, how about work and study, and where to go out ......

　　She seemed to be waiting for something, and finally, she seemed to get impatient: "Can you talk about us?"

　　"Oh, we ah. Do you want me to talk about it?"

　　"Well, anything."

　　"I don't want to see you anymore."

　　"......"

　　Another silent smile and turn around.

　　"Then why did you even come? You XXX!"

　　Seemingly sobbing in the silent night seems abrupt, and this moonlight, also makes people feel cool

　　"Because, every time I see you, I like you."

　　"So if you don't see me, won't you like me?"

　　"The time I don't see you is when I'm relieved enough to go about my business because I know that you won't leave me again and you'll be waiting for me to come back, won't you?"

　　Turning around, a silent smile.

　　The cool light seemed to have so much warmth that she clutched her sleeve tightly ......

　　"Why don't you just finish your sentence?"

　　"Has it been so long since we've met that the moon hasn't told you what I want to say?"

　　Stroked her hair that had been slightly messed up by the wind long ago: "I have to go, go home now."

　　"Oh yeah, remember to look in your school bag."

　　She unzipped it, a letter, a lipstick, her favorite.

　　"The moon tells me that you, gentle and lovely, miss me.

　　And I, for one, care more about the subject after the definite article."

　　She snorted a laugh and lifted her head

　　"Some of what I want to say, the moon must have told you too."

　　Wandering, is also to be accompanied by love; struggle, is also to carry the expectations. To say or not to say, has long since ceased to matter. The most important thing is to put down the bravado that has been eclipsed long ago and treat a relationship well, plain and not noisy, passionate and not vain, leaving the most precious sweetness, so that the most loved ones to guard. I wish all the people who are still wandering around; your relatives far away from home, around the most loved ones, their words, the moon are telling you it.