Letter to a friend

Autumn is the most beautiful season, the most poetic season, and the most mournful season. Looking back at the autumn where the breeze and the leaves coexist, I thought about the autumn of the chrysanthemum blooming and sad. What came to my eyes was actually your voice and smile, your bit by bit.

Your favorite flower is chrysanthemum. You said that chrysanthemums have a noble atmosphere, she is tall and lonely. I remember that I was very curious to get close to you at that time, and smiled against you. You just smiled, your eyes seemed to look into the distance through me: "Stupid girl, she is the tallest, the most lonely." It was just that I was really stupid, I didn't understand your grief, your wounds, It’s just a little more curious to get close to you: “Why, why?” Your gaze gradually closes. Pushing my head away with one hand, your hippie smile said to me: "Oh, you are too stupid, don't understand." After some trouble, we talked about chrysanthemum. From "not the flower prefers chrysanthemum, this flower is more flowerless", to "the light muscles are weak and the bones are scattered, and the golden core is flowing," from the "autumn full of the roots to see the flowers, but from the cold and the prosperous" , "Under the Chrysanthemum East, you can see Nanshan leisurely." I was shocked that you are so in love with the chrysanthemum, everything about chrysanthemums, you are remembered in your heart, it seems that you and chrysanthemum are one.

Day after day, the autumn wind is not so cool, but with a slight chill. "Who is letting the wind dance my cool sleeves, let this cool, penetrate the clothes, cold all the past." Probably this is the case.

When I first arrived in the winter, it was already a snowstorm. I walked with you on the crystal road, trotting from time to time, skating. It’s just that I never imagined that because of my playfulness, my mischief will make your life no longer colorful, but will be silent in a pool of blood, and will remain on the stone tablet forever.

Until the last moment of your life, until your mother rushes in, until I see the defeat of your home, I really understand that the chrysanthemum is really high and lonely. And you are the chrysanthemum, the noble chrysanthemum, the high chrysanthemum, the lonely chrysanthemum, the beautiful chrysanthemum...

Today's autumn is still beautiful and sad. Chrysanthemums are still colorful and mournful. The difference is that this world only keeps me whispering, whispering...