Article two: graduation from junior high school

　　A pen, I do not know how many papers to write; in a word, I do not know how many times. The teacher's words are still in the ear, but I can't hear it again; my friend's wishes are still written on the paper, but I dare not go. The preface

　　I dare not admit that I have graduated, and I want to sit in the room that belongs to us, and write down our oath on the desk that belongs to me. The teacher stood on the platform and I did not dare to forget that the class teacher, who looked at us and grew up slowly, was tired. The children who have been with her for three years have graduated, and she will teach many children, but they can't replace the memories we once gave her.

　　I still remember the jokes of ten minutes between classes, the fun of not coming home in the afternoon, the nonsense of the late self study, but now it has become the past. There were so many troublemakers in the class that used to hate them, but now they miss them a little bit of fun. And the sisters who have been with me all the time, we cried and laughed together, but we didn't know what to say when we were separated. Graduation, in September, the class is still full of people but not us. We will be separated to a new group, and we will miss the past, but we can't go back to the past.

　　If I want to wake up and find out that I have only had a long dream, I am still sitting in the classroom of junior middle school. The teacher is still talking about the 100 year old topic. I talked to my deskmate about my dream. She knocked on it and said, listen to your class, do some daydreaming all day. I was sure I wouldn't be angry at that time. I'll laugh and say. She must be surprised at what I am, and she won't know how much I miss her.

　　After graduation, I should go. Looking out of the window, I cried. I sat on a train away from the past, and I couldn't miss it and miss the days when we lived together for three years. I am a cowardly person. I am afraid of parting, afraid of tears, and afraid to see your reluctant eyes when you send me away. Then I believe I will not have the courage to leave, so I walk alone.

　　Maybe I'll come back, but can we meet again?

　　Once I love a person who should not love, but I have no regrets, because it is him that let me understand the beauty of first love. Junior high school is beautiful, because of the care of teachers, the love of friends, lovers' spoiling. Maybe in other places I can feel it just without the first joy.

　　The night was quiet, and I sat in front of the window, remembering our past. Tears streaming down the corner of the eye, the distance of you are also missing us once.