The first time I saw you, I was attracted by your childish smile. You came up to me in a friendly way and sat down, giving me a warm smile. I smiled, too, but I'm still a little worried about you, a stranger. When you came to the interest class, it was still winter. However, your appearance, your kindness to me, is the sunshine in that severe winter and the warmest reliance.
The first spring I spent with you was my happiest spring. We always get to school early, put down our schoolbags, and then go to the jungle trail to find the footprints of spring. You always like to take me to catch insects. Although you know I don't like this kind of thing, you still insist that I go with you-because, you know, I won't resist, I will only be defeated by your eyes. Walking beside the osmanthus tree with you is my greatest enjoyment. Watching you quietly indulge in the world of osmanthus fragrance, I am happy for your happiness. If this time can last forever, I am willing to exchange it for the future.
But fate is cruel, and we won't always be together after all. Last winter, you broke our agreement when you left without saying goodbye. I tried to give you more opportunities for contact, but in vain. You're not with me. I opened the notes you made for me, and now I find that I am too dependent on you. I have forgotten that it is winter now. I always walk alone in the forest, trying to find you who concentrate on studying insects. Beginning of spring passed, and I was desperate, but the email you sent me made me learn to smile again. But this is not a happy email, it seems to be a rudder, pulling our feelings to the deep sea. You said you were treated in a hospital, not in China, but in France. It just cleared up outside the window. I hope you're just lying. After I was cheated, you called me stupid. You said you knew I didn't want to accept the fact that you were ill, so you just told me now. Seeing the end again is a big "sorry", but it doesn't matter at the moment.
Walking out of the classroom door, I saw osmanthus blossoms again. I miss what we used to look like and our feelings.