A girl's tears are the most precious.

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The first time she cried in front of you, her shoulders trembled slightly, her innocent face and long eyelashes glistening with tears, her sorrowful eyes looking at you. You found it an exceptionally moving scene. You suddenly felt a surge of excitement, a strange pleasure welling up inside you. This was the first time she had lost herself in front of you, the first time she had cried for you. After the brief pleasure, you felt a pang of heartache; the girl's tears seemed to have seeped into your own heart, causing an uncontrollable sorrow. At that moment, she became the most helpless girl in your eyes, like a wounded animal needing your comfort. You panicked. You fumbled for tissues, clumsily wiping away her tears, gently coaxing her to blow her nose, then pulling her close, wanting nothing to hurt her. But she continued to cry, her tears flowing into your chest.

The second time she cried in front of you, large drops falling. She didn't wipe them away, just stood there alone. You glance at her discreetly from the side; she seems to carry a lifetime of sorrow, tears streaming down her face. Your heart trembles. You embrace her frail body, whispering in her ear, "Don't cry, it's okay." She presses her face against yours, and yours becomes stained with her tears. You secretly lick your lips; they taste salty from her tears…

This is the third time she's cried in front of you. You think to yourself, "Women really do cry a lot; this girl's resilience is so poor." You silently hand her a tissue, watching her wipe her tears away, then bow her head and say sorry. Her eyes are red, and she chokes out, "It's okay." You calmly meet her eyes, gazing at her. Your heart is as still as water…

She continues to cry in front of you. You don't know what she's thinking. You think you haven't hurt her; you don't understand her pain. She cries on the phone, she cries in the car, she cries while eating at a restaurant. The more she cries, the more indifferent you become. You don't say a word, calmly waiting for her to finish crying. Then a thought crossed your mind: her tears didn't represent pain…

You only saw her cry in front of you, but do you know that in secluded places, on her bed at home… she cried for you alone, sitting on the floor, her face covered by the blanket. She wouldn't let her tears flow inside, because her heart would only bleed…

Do you know how many times she told herself it was the last time she would cry for you? Do you know how many nights she cried, washing her face with cold water and placing ice on her swollen eyelids? When others asked why her eyes were swollen, her answer was that she drank too much water before bed…

She once cried and told you that no other man would ever possess her tears, and you laughed it off. You thought it was just an angry outburst, but you were wrong. No matter what other women did, she could only truly and deeply love one man; she didn't have the energy or the tears to give to every man who accompanied her in her life.

Now she still cries, but not as unrestrainedly as before. Because she now knows how cheap tears are in your eyes, she tries her best to control herself, repeatedly telling herself not to cry.

She is an emotional girl. She doesn't know how to stop her tears from flowing.

She cried for you simply because she loved you; her tears were because she felt pain.

Then one day, you no longer had her. She left you. You finally lost her. Years passed, and the youthful emotional pain and recklessness were sealed away in the deepest recesses of your memory. When you lie on your sickbed, reminiscing… you inadvertently reopen those dusty memories, unexpectedly remembering her, the years you spent with her, her smiling face, and the soft, youthful body you embraced, remembering her smiling as she placed a tie around your neck. Remembering your laughter and arguments. Finally, you think of her tearful eyes, remember her tears. You suddenly realize that those are the clearest, most real memories she left you…

Girls are lovely; don't let the girl who loves you cry again…

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A girl's tears are the most precious.

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