I'm sorry, I didn't live the way you wanted me to live.

Three years have passed.

I am an ordinary person.

Ordinary ones are like a grass on the roadside and will not be noticed by anyone.

I'm really sorry, I didn't live the way you hoped. I'm sorry, those of you who had high hopes for me, I failed you.

一

Graduated from primary school in 1994.

On the eve of graduation, a group of classmates and I went to the home of my class teacher, Mr. Liu, as a farewell before graduation.

At that time, Teacher Liu was probably in his fifties. He was short, straight-backed, with slightly gray hair, and had a serious and unsmiling expression. Everyone was usually afraid of him. But he was still very kind to me. He personally told his father, "This child is very hardworking and has good grades. It is the first time I have encountered such a hard-working and studious child in my nearly 40 years of teaching." (This is what my father told me later. Yes, he was also a student of Teacher Liu).

A group of us children packed the teacher’s small room of more than ten square meters. He changed from his usual seriousness and smiled. While stuffing candies into our hands, he told us what we should do in junior high school. Study hard, follow discipline, etc. When he came to me, he looked at me for a few seconds and said, "You are upright and kind, and you are very good at writing essays. I hope you can become a reporter when you grow up." I don’t remember what I replied. But his expectant look has been engraved in my mind for more than twenty years.

Teacher Liu and I live in the same village and have met several times after graduation. After I got married, I lived in the city and never interacted with him again. Occasionally I would go back to my hometown to ask my parents about his situation, "Oh, he is still teaching." "Oh, I'm retired. When I have free time, I help the village write wall slogans."

"Oh, Teacher Liu passed away just a few days ago." This is what my mother told me one summer seven or eight years ago when I took my children home for a short stay. My heart suddenly sank. "I should go to his funeral, why didn't anyone tell me?" "The funeral procession was lined up for a full mile, and most of them were his students from all over the country."

I blamed myself for many years after that. Sorry, I couldn't give Teacher Liu a ride. I'm sorry, I couldn't live the life he expected.

2

This is a name that has been deified by me and makes me happy, tremble, and my heart beats faster. For twenty years, he has appeared in my dreams countless times, and I am afraid to mention it. , but looking forward to getting a hint of news about him from others. He is my teacher in junior high school for three years, F.

My childhood was gray. My father once opened a firecracker factory, but it collapsed after a few years due to poor management. He owed a lot of debt, both from banks and from some friends he thought he had good relationships with. For about five or six years, debt collectors came every now and then. I had to wait for most of the day when my family wanted to pay, and they were so arrogant that I hid in another room and didn't dare to come out. I was so scared, afraid that they would really try to take over my house, or that they would go out without any explanation. Something like my home.

Later, when they saw that my family really couldn’t afford the money, they stopped. My father went to work on a construction site. He would drink heavily when he came home every day. When he drank too much, he would turn over the table and curse people. My mother and I didn’t dare to talk. Just cry.

I went to junior high school, but I couldn’t live on campus at that time, and I still couldn’t escape my violent father.

He appeared, Teacher F, like a ray of sunshine that warmed my lonely and quiet child. I like his energetic expression when he lectures, his rich emotions when he reads the text, his smile, and any of his casual gestures. He taught us Chinese, which was a subject I was particularly good at. My compositions are often read to everyone by him as model essays. It is such a joy and excitement for me to have my words read by him. It is a great recognition and warmth for a child who does not receive attention and care. I study hard for his smile and affirmative look at me. As long as there is his class tomorrow, I will not miss class even if I get up in the morning to perform surgery. That is the beautiful and pure emotion of a child. No one knows.

I didn’t get into the ideal school. My grades are too average.

I finally got married, had children, and worked like all the secular people I despised. However, the name that illuminated my boyhood always appeared in my dreams, like every day for twenty years.

Until a few days ago, I finally plucked up the courage to sit in the classroom again and listen to his lectures.

Later, he told me via WeChat that his only impression of me was that I was very talented in literature and thought I could be a writer when I grow up.

But, I didn’t, I lived like any other living being. Live like a passerby. But I am not complacent, I am working hard to realize my poetry and the distance...

Three

I don’t know why I put it to the end to write. Perhaps I already know very well in my heart that although I have not lived the way he expected, I will always be proud in his eyes and he is my father.

My father, who had been an alcoholic since childhood, still drank, but he rarely lost his temper. My sister and I are both married and have children, and our jobs are going pretty well. He has nothing to worry about for us, including us buying a car or a house, and we don't want to alarm him. The only thing he should worry about is his body. He has undergone four major surgeries in more than ten years. He was not allowed to drink alcohol after the surgery. His mother couldn't persuade him, so she simply followed his pleasure and went out to do odd jobs in the village, not for how much money he earned, but just to spend less time with him and avoid quarrels.

I was spanked too many times by my father when I was a child. It was not the kind of frightening method of picking up a broomstick and spanking, but chasing him around the village with red eyes and holding a pole. I would definitely run away, otherwise Maybe I wouldn’t be where I am today. As for why, I can't remember clearly. I just feel that I hated him when I was a child. He gave me too many tears and taught me to live a stubborn and strong life.

I occasionally make him proud, but that probably started after I entered high school. There are often old men and women who have nothing to do at home and come to visit us. When he gets excited, he will say, "Come, take a look at my daughter's certificate." He opens a drawer on the table and takes out a stack of red and green certificates. Benben said, "Look, this is my boss's certificate of honor, this is her composition award certificate, and by the way, this is a press card sent to him by a newspaper company," he said while opening them one by one. It wasn't until someone said, "Your daughter is really amazing. She will be great when she grows up. She must be eating commercial food." He happily put it away, carefully stacked it and put it in the drawer, and enjoyed it until someone came again.

When I grew up, I did move into the city and live in a building, but I was one of the thousands of people my age who moved into the city and lived in a building.

I have not become the reporter that Teacher Liu expected, I have not become the writer that Teacher F thinks of, and I have not become the great person that my father talks about. I am too ordinary, as ordinary as a fallen leaf or a fallen leaf. No one will notice a speck of dust