Original title: Those years, our high school

Original Author: Fang Quan Qi ――――Source: Reprinted from "American Network"

After reading this article, the author Jun was deeply touched, and suddenly he had a sad mood, inexplicably missing those people and things in high school. I don't know the readers and friends who read this article, do you think of the old times in those years?

Body:

After three years of faltering high school, I entered my university hall almost without any difficulties, and I was a little puzzled whether it was a mistake to enter such a good school. This is how life goes on without warning, without end.

What is a university? When I was about to be a sophomore, I asked myself this unusually boring, ignorant and powerless question. Sophomore, to put it bluntly, is big, and it's two. I'm about to become a senior.,It's a pity that I didn't study well.,I don't grow well.,I don't know if I'm worthy of the title of "senior".

In a new environment, I met a group of lovely but strange people, some just passed by, and some seemed to be with Ji for a few years. Friend, just like I did when I first entered high school, facing a wave of faces. I will meet more handsome guys and beauties, I will meet more amazing academic tyrants than high school, I will meet colleagues who play ball more elegantly than high school, and I will meet musical geniuses who can play a broken acoustic guitar to the mountains.

But when I was a classmate who had been with me for three years, I was so hard-hearted that I had a strong reluctance. I miss snatching a girl's facial tissue to wipe her sweat after gym class. I miss the heartiness of a few friends on the basketball court, the nervousness every time I post the rankings, the time when I had a crush on the girl in the front seat, and the seat that only belongs to me in the classroom.

In those years, the high school we went to together was like a full ear of rice in autumn, and it was ripe and happy for those three years. Sometimes I can only let the fragments of memory turn over and over in my mind, but I am always powerless. In my dream, I dreamed of the corridor in front of the classroom, and it seemed like it was full of my footprints.

A bunch of lewd. The boys stood in the high hallway and whistled at the girls playing badminton downstairs, and the girls in the classroom watched the crazy boys in front of them do whatever they wanted. At night, they silently made a wish to the fireworks in the distance, as if it would come true tomorrow. The agreement to grow up together is so clear, and it can be better than a vow without hooking.

Once determined, one test will be determined for life. In this way, the college entrance examination mercilessly drew us all over the world. Occasional QQ chat, occasional Renren network comments, occasional phone greetings, occasional meetings, and occasional ripples in my heart.

Universities do not have fixed classrooms, that is, they do not have classrooms that belong to their own classes. But in this way, how do we frolic and play, how do we copy the test papers of high-achieving students, how do we hide in the corner and secretly watch the back of the girl we like?

In college, I knew very few people, except for my classmates, who were almost unheard of. The people who were in class with themselves were all strangers with a hint of dazed faces, staring blankly at the blackboard, as if the other side of the blackboard was another world. As soon as you meet you in the same city, you will immediately feel very cordial, as if you have not seen lovers in several lifetimes, let alone fellow countrymen, it is really going to be tearful.

In a way, college is a place that destroys dreams. Once upon a time, our dream was to be an astronaut in space; or born calves who are not afraid to break into the NBA like a tiger; Or be a free writer, splash ink, and live a chic life; Or start a band with your brothers and have a good time.

However, when entering the ivory tower of university, when faced with such complex academic and employment pressures, when we had to accept the sleek reality, we finally showed the white flag of life, and surrendered very simply, unusually going with the flow.

We are like an eagle soaring in the sky, when many people are concerned about whether we fly high or not, but only a few people care about whether we are tired of flying, this is friendship, especially high school friendship, which is our lifelong wealth. When we're drunk in college, whose name do we shout hoarsely?

I often can't sleep at night, thinking about the past. If late-night meditation is writing a poetic essay, then high school is almighty material, and no matter how you write, you can't write it badly. Splice those scattered memory fragments wantonly, depict them as a picture of life in your mind, and screen the stories of the past over and over again. I know that this kind of rural complex of relocation, which will restrict my future and development in the future, but I still can't help but reminisce over and over again.

Now although we are all over the world, we are all college students, and we are all the pride of the school, but who knows that behind the glory is engraved a loneliness? All of them are a kite flown in high school, flying high and far, but as long as they pull it, they will fly back immediately. The three years of classmates are like a flexible thread that binds us together as scattered kites.

It's like two intersecting lines, when they meet, it's when they separate. Because time was really cruel, so cruel that I didn't have enough chance to see those blurry faces clearly. Before graduation, many people would buy a thick class directory to record the personal information of each classmate, but I didn't buy it, I don't know if it was because I was overconfident in my super memory, or because I was afraid that I would sigh when I saw these things in the future.

In fact, the most precious thing is that graduation photo, I may not remember everyone's names in the future, but I will definitely remember everyone's faces, those smiling faces that drew a perfect end to my high school life.

I remember that after the college entrance examination, on the day of the meal, the squad leader held the microphone and seemed to tremble and said some encouraging words to us, I didn't see the way he spoke because my eyes were moist, I think others must not have seen it clearly. The meal was eaten for a long time, almost until it was dark, and the people who never drank were drunk, and all of them were red and thick-necked.

The old class said that the meal was the most congested time in the class, and there would be no such opportunity in the future. Now it seems to be true. In the future, although there will be class reunions every long vacation, people are always incomplete, and there is no passion in the past, yes, everyone is tired.

I often want to contact my high school classmates, but after the phone is dialed, I don't know what to say, even if I am the most open friend. is often followed by a few words of greetings, and then a sentence in unison, "Take care of your brother, I will find you to play on vacation". A thousand words in my heart but I can't spurt out, "hey" and then put the phone aside, and then beat my chest, hating that I didn't say enough.

Time is a huge net, netting our youth and sweat, we struggle, struggle, and finally just want to break through this net. Sometimes the net is terrifying and suffocating, and sometimes it is like a happy utopia. Our pure rebellion and unruly self-confidence have been shattered by the various gods of the university.

Universities are small societies. Our pride and our sharpness have been polished by this wave-like small society. So we began to say reluctant words, do unwilling things, and began to learn how to handle so-called interpersonal relationships with the graceful demeanor of adults. We look at the world in front of us with a sly eye, and then say a substantial remark.

Perhaps, this is called maturity. After all, this society cares about how good you are, not how pure you are. But if this is the case, then I would rather choose to remain naïve forever and always use the simplest logic to interpret the most complex feelings.

From high school to college, this is a qualitative leap, we have to throw away the original naivety and ignorance, with maturity and stability to arm ourselves to withstand the blows of the future. This is the inevitability of growth, if you feel very reluctant and painful in this process, it is better to think that it is just "growing pain", we must accept and face.

Life is not over, this is a new beginning, but our most wonderful and sweetest time, soaked in the high school that went away, those years, we walked through the high school together, forever like the sunset afterglow in the heart, warm as the old.