The program has been going on for almost two hours, and I'm looking forward to eating some hot pot. A French-speaking monk came to the stage, white, thin and tall, with Eguchi Yosuke's long bohemian hair in "Tokyo Love Story" and danced street dance with a basketball. The five senses are too far apart, but I still vaguely see that my face is steep and handsome, and everything is especially suitable for my teenage silly girl's heart …
I didn't pay attention when this senior came to power, and my mind was focused on dozing off and eating hot pot. But after he stepped down, I couldn't notice anything else I don't remember what's on behind that head, how long it was on, and whether I ate or not at night. Only he appears in my mind more and more. At that time, I didn't know which college he was from. Later, after many inquiries, I probably knew that this program was in the French department. There was no program in the graduation grade, so he should be a sophomore or a junior, but I still don't know his name. After all, all I can ask is the freshmen of this major who have just arrived a few days like me.
That year, the school was partially rebuilt to catch up with the expansion of enrollment. There is no place, so we put the freshmen of our two main colleges alone on the mountainside of the scenic spot 30 kilometers away from the headquarters. The traffic is very inconvenient. Besides, we have been to the headquarters two or three times in a strange place. Our college has only dealt with a few other disciples, and we are not familiar with them. We are embarrassed to ask directly, but we have been beating around the bush several times without hearing from him.
Time goes by like a rickety old car. There are more and more people in school, and life is busy and noisy. It is not easy to talk about the final exam in front of us. A lot of things are stuffed in my heart, fresh, confused and nervous. The tall teacher dancing with basketball has gradually stopped jumping out of my heart every hour, eagerly driving my thinking. He has now become a mysterious fairy in my mind, and I am not in a hurry to find or forget him. He is like a new part of me and a beautiful and distant school scenery printed on postcards. Slowly and even in a trance, he was like a mirage that night, as if he really didn't exist. However, I am satisfied with this distance.
Finally, I managed to cope with the first final exam of the university. On the last day before the holiday, I received a grand reception and received my childhood friends who flew back from abroad to visit me. What a grand way, that is, holding his hand, walking around the whole freshman branch and parading the streets. I'm shy and lazy, and I don't like to show off everywhere, but this time I should also like to entertain him who flies back for me every few months. I can't let go when I care, but I don't care when I care. ...
He is my nominal boyfriend now. When we were talking about puppy love, I really liked him, but I always pushed him away on purpose. Later, in this embarrassing situation of deliberately pushing him away, he immigrated with his family, and we once lost contact. When we met again in senior three, this time we all just stubbornly used our grown-up selves and insisted on our childhood likes.
After all, I told him it was time to grow up, after all, dragging a long winter vacation.
It seems to rain every weekend of the second semester, with a cold spring rain. From spring to summer, I always wander on the road between the branch office and the headquarters by bus on weekends. I have nowhere to go and I don't want to go back. At that time, no one had a cell phone. Every weekend, childhood friends always call the dormitory landline. I don't want to go back and listen to his sadness. I pretended that he was not sad. ...
At this stage, I seldom think about the basketball teacher, because it will deepen my guilt. I prefer to think about Gatsby and Martin Eden.
Finally, I am a sophomore and returned home.
A year ago, I didn't know anyone. I tried my best to run to the headquarters like a fly to find even a little news about him. Now I'm in the secretariat of the student union in the compound, contact all the colleges, and I can find anyone casually, but I don't want to ask for help. Because I have always felt guilty, although I don't know if I should feel guilty. Also because I am used to his unreachable distance, I gradually suspect that he was just a mirage that night …