Hope in six years

It was only when you sent me a QQ message saying you were getting married that I suddenly realized it had been six years. I'd known you for six years, and I'd liked you for six years. I'd always been in a state of unrequited love, and I never dared to respond because the moment I did, you would no longer belong to me. Although you never truly belonged to me, I think back to when we first met, during our innocent cram school days. Every glance and smile of yours could make my heart flutter. I couldn't help but secretly look at you and think of you in the middle of the night. Because we were in the same row, I gradually got closer to you, played with you, and joked around with you until everyone knew I liked you, including the teachers. Actually, you knew too, but you had a boyfriend for six years. Coincidentally, you got married six years after I met you, and you had a boyfriend for six years when I met you. Unfortunately, twelve years later, the person you married wasn't him, nor was it me. Back then, I was still upset. Every Sunday, you wouldn't let me think about what happened between you and him, but it was still painful. Just thinking about someone kissing you, touching you, or even other things made it impossible for me to sleep. Your deskmate said, "We two..." No one can live without the other. You smiled, and I wanted to say what he said, but could I really separate you two after six years of relationship? I still rack my brains every day thinking about marrying you. You're not a virgin anymore. Now, as long as I can be with you, I don't care about anything else. It's a pity that giving up is the only thing I can do for you. I believe you liked me too, even if it was just a tiny bit. Hehe, I replied to you, but I can't forgive myself. Is crying useful? But what can I do if I don't cry? I really want to talk to you and confess my feelings. I hope you know that I've always loved you, but wouldn't that just add to your troubles? I remember when you were a sophomore, your boyfriend of many years suddenly left you. You were so disappointed, in pain, and confused that when you called me and asked me to introduce you to a boyfriend, I really wanted to go there immediately. I love you, and the only requirement is that your family is well-off. My family isn't wealthy, so I hesitated. During our conversation, I realized that you were no longer the person you used to be. I was thinking that I only liked the person in the cram school. You were also thinking that youth is just like that. I used to joke with you that if we were both single at 26 or 27, we'd form a group. You laughed, and then we never contacted each other again. The few times we chatted were mostly about reminiscing. I threw myself into the student union, studied hard, and became the top student in the department. I thought I could forget you, but you're still in my heart. If I had chosen a school with you, even if you didn't have a boyfriend, I probably couldn't afford to support you with my spending habits. You were poor and incompetent, which made me miss you time and time again. In just one more year, we would have been 26, but you were already married. Your stubbornness, your smile, your beauty... These days I've been listening to "Fleet of Time," and suddenly I miss you so much. You weren't truly happy until the final contentment. Over and over again, I realized I'm just a coward, incompetent, and insecure person. What girl would like someone like me? The lyrics of "Fleet of Time" are so good: If the past is still worth cherishing, don't be too quick to forgive and forget. I'm so glad I was your best friend back then. When my friends wanted to have a get-together, it was canceled because I didn't go. You were with your boyfriend, waiting for another guy, and I, being petty, didn't want to see you two together. Later, I found out you cried a lot, and I realized I had hurt you emotionally. If we had gone to the get-together, would I have been the one with you? At least if I had gone, you would have had a choice. It's a pity, a pity, that fate wouldn't let us go back. I met you, I liked you, I'm sorry for hurting you, thinking about you, leaving you. So many of you, but none of them belonged to me. It seems like there's a six-year period where, even if we're not lovers, I want to stay by your side, even if it's just to secretly hold your hand when you're drunk. If there really is the ending of those girls we used to chase, I want to hug you and say I loved you. Another six years, I believe you've found your place. When we meet again, I'll still remember the tears you shed then. Xian'er, I think no matter how many six years there are, I hope you're happy, you must be happy.

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Hope in six years

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