Whose Youth Isn't Youth 1

page views:1 Publication date:2023-12-14sup

There's a girl on the forum called "Fairy" and another called "Tangyuan," both women I really like, but I've never met them. I have no connection or interaction with Tangyuan, and I've never added her as a friend. I've been friends with Fairy for almost six years, and we've chatted for six years, with her often flirting with me, haha. But for various reasons, we've never met. We almost met this summer, but it didn't work out. But I believe in fate, and I believe that if we're meant to be, we'll meet again.
I just read Tangyuan's post about her university reunion, and it instantly pulled my memories back to university, and even a little bit back to high school. Tangyuan said that no matter how tightly you hug, it's too late; let's wish each other well. Both of them had red eyes, and they turned away. There was no hotel scene; I found it very real and good. There's no such thing as a class reunion necessarily involving a hotel fight; most of those are just wishful thinking. I suddenly felt sentimental about youth, so after reading Tangyuan's post, I replied to her comment: "Youth, once pawned, can never be redeemed." It's truly irreversible. Everyone only has one youth, whether they live long or short, rich or poor, male or female.
I flipped back through Tangyuan's writing, to the part where he took her first time in a small hotel near the school, and to the final, intense battle before their breakup—or rather, several, all-out battles. I read her complaints about the hotel's razor, the vivid imagery of pubic hair and fiery passion. Tangyuan's writing about youth was passionate and intense, alleviating the sadness and regret of youth. Thank you, Tangyuan.
Suddenly, I thought of my first love, of her tearful eyes at the train station, of the drawings she made for me filled with longing, of her endless vows of forever, of unwavering devotion. I couldn't help but think of her fiery lips, her soft, undulating curves, the marks she made on her arm to try and keep me, and the sleepless nights before our breakup. No matter how long the night, dawn will always break; no matter how beautiful the memories, time will always repeatedly cover them up. I didn't have the chance to reunite with my first love like Tangyuan did, or perhaps I did have that chance, but we didn't meet.
I remember the day I saw her off, it felt like a piece of my body was missing, an emptiness as if something had been taken away. That day I smoked a lot, hurting my throat, and when I smoked the last one, I couldn't smoke anymore. I remembered her nagging me to quit smoking, so I stubbed out half a cigarette, and never saw her again.
Perhaps, in the future, I will write about my youth, about my memories of her.

Thank you, Tangyuan.

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