Loving someone and getting no response is like trying to climb that mountain
At first, it was only because of the beautiful scenery and endless scenery at the top of the mountain that you were willing to endure the hardships of climbing, and as long as you can reach the top, you feel that everything is worth it
However, the road is rough, and you gradually realize that all your efforts are your own, and the mountain always stands, turning a blind eye to your efforts
And finally one day you understand that no matter how magnificent the mountain is, it is only itself
And you're just one of its countless passers-by
In those days, I felt like I was stuck in the mire of loving you, and I couldn't extricate myself.
I miss you endlessly every day, every moment.
But your coldness, your non-response, like a sharp knife, pierced my heart.
I tried to contact you, but your silence left me with nowhere to hide.
I knew that going on like this would only make me more miserable, so I decided to put an end to it.
I need time to heal my wounds and I'll be fine.
You read it silently, quietly expecting a piece of wisdom that will not respond
Knowing that the words are difficult to understand, he still keeps writing all the way and never stops
Your heart silently watches over the distant sky, longing for his news.
No matter the wind or rain, you stick to his Weibo and circle of friends, looking forward to his dynamics.
Your love, pure and affectionate, is like a stream that never stops.
Even though you know that the road ahead is difficult, you still choose to move forward bravely.
Your persistence and perseverance are deeply moving.
May you find your own happiness and let love illuminate your path in life.
Loving someone is after a heavy rain, the rainbow hangs in the sky, you are willing to accompany him to listen to the sound of flowers blooming, to see the scenery of the passing year, even if there are tens of millions of fireworks in the world, it is not as bright as the stars in your eyes.
Every time, my heart is full of expectations, and I have a lot of things to say and a lot of stories to tell, but in the end, I am either "busy" or there is no news.
It's like climbing a ladder for a long time and stepping on the air for the last time. Obviously there is nothing, but the heart is empty, and I don't know what I have lost;
It's like autumn is about to pass, and there is not a hint of wind, and a leaf falls down, and it just withers and yellows.
I guess that's powerlessness.
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