Which month is the moon?

(The following information comes from the Internet, I hope it will be helpful to you.) In March, the female host in the weather forecast told us about the temperature and humidity with the same smile every day . Until one day she said "Spring is here", I couldn't hear anything else, I just thought "Spring is here, spring is here".

March, spring.

The green palms of the sycamore trees have not yet filled the entire street. The sunshine at six o'clock in the morning is like a coke that has leaked air. Only a few small bubbles are slowly emerging on the side of the cup, the kind of gushing and The passion seems to be a matter of the next life.

There were only two people at the bus stop, him and me. No wonder, who would wait for the bus to go to school before six o'clock?

He appeared "suddenly" a week ago. The reason why I say "suddenly" is because I was the only one who got up so early to wait for the bus, and then a like-minded person appeared. In this unique weather of early spring, the light sources mostly come from the street lamps on top of the stop signs and the rare warm light from the buildings opposite. Even if there are occasional cars whizzing by, the headlights will only be mottled and dazzling. moment. The warmth from the hot cocoa dampened my face.

In this hazy environment, no matter how hard I try to keep my eyes open. I still couldn't see clearly what he looked like, just a furry outline and a scarf that almost hung to the ground.

I took a sip of hot cocoa, and the white warm air puffed out was like a thin memory from my childhood. I looked up at him and saw that he was drinking a 500mL carton of milk. As for the red bean-colored scarf, it seemed a bit awkward in this early spring when the flowers had not yet bloomed.

Maybe it would look better if I changed to a dark green one. I fantasized.

There were two orange car lights in the distance coming towards us from far to near, as if they suddenly appeared next to us after passing through a long and cold tunnel. When we got in the car, he walked behind me. I don't know if it was a short-circuit in my brain or a witch possessing me, but I stumbled and leaned back. Although he finally stood still, the brown cocoa splashed on his scarf and turned into a large wet spot, ugly.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry!" I was so embarrassed that I went to the Antarctic. I took out a pack of tissues and tried to wipe away my mistake. It’s just that this pure cotton scarf has already absorbed them completely.

"Forget it, get in the car quickly." He smiled very gently, or that smile should be called warmth, which warmed the cold air in the car.

We were the only two passengers in the car. It was the first time we spoke, the first time we sat side by side. The bare branches outside the window are entangled with young buds, which may soon grow into palm-sized green, and soon bear fruit. What about us? Maybe I should say me and him? What will happen. The age of seventeen or eighteen always gives people a dream-like illusion. I always feel that I have a Cinderella-like life experience, thinking that one day a prince will discover me and dance a waltz together.

After arriving at school, he walked in front of me and met me, five meters apart. A boy ran all the way from behind me to catch up with him, calling his name - Nan ×. I never heard the last word clearly.

Nan×, what is Nan called?

I met You when we were about to arrive in the classroom. We were chatting and discussing the last final exam and the results that will be announced today.

Spring is always so full of vitality, just like every little butterfly’s curiosity and expectation for the world after emerging from its cocoon. In this way, we learn Xiaodie's expectations year after year, walking through the spring, summer, autumn and winter, until we grow old and then die.

I haven’t been so attentive all morning, and the lawn on the playground began to sprout a layer of fluffy tips, like a blanket that had just begun to be woven. I just like the little buds that break out of the ground. I like the current kind better than the overly lush grass in summer. Although in a certain sense, the two are just different stages of the same thing.

When I was coming home from school in the evening, I passed by the basketball court and saw him playing basketball with a group of people. His slender body jumped in a perfect arc. Despite his graceful posture, the ball never fell into the frame.

When I went to bed at night, I put that terrible report card under the bed and let it go to hell.

I dreamed of him that night. He touched my hair in the sun and said that my final exam results were good, and then there was that warm smile again. And I said with a gloomy face, "I have failed both physics and chemistry. I really envy you." Then raise your head at a 45° angle, facing him like a sunflower facing the sun. He laughed and said: Let me help you with tutoring. I jumped up happily: OK, what's your name?

Listen carefully, I will only say it once, my name is Nan...

The last word was drowned in a burst of fire truck sirens, and the sound became louder and louder. It got louder and louder, and the "beep beep" sound made me have to cover my ears. When I woke up, I realized it was the damn alarm clock ringing.

Huh, what is it called?

On the way to the station, there were many small ambiguities in my heart like restless bubbles, constantly trying to rush upward until they broke through the softest layer above the heart, and then rushed to the center of the brain, ha, Occupied.

Those almost crazy and bold ideas jumped through my mind one by one. Will he ask me my name? If he said he wanted to get to know me, or help me with tutoring, what if...he said I was cute, what should I do?

I blushed and my cheeks became warm. He shrank his head into the scarf, and those little bubble-like ambiguities slowly gathered together, shrinking into a small ball, and then suddenly enlarged, clearly reflected, and finally evolved into:

If, he Confess your love to me?

Somewhat funny, but so natural.

When I saw him, he was still standing in the same position with the red bean-colored scarf. I even wonder if I have gone back to yesterday. His appearance, his posture, his outline, nothing changed. He saw me and smiled warmly at me. For a moment, my surroundings seemed to be filled with the smell of sunshine. The sunflower found her sun. Maybe this is what love tastes like.

His scarf was as clean as new, with no trace of cocoa contamination. Maybe he is a capable boy who can do housework as beautifully as his mother. He used his hands to wash away the stain of that day, just like my bad image was removed from his heart; or maybe he has a capable mother. When his mother washes the scarf, she will definitely ask how it got dirty. How would he answer? He will definitely smile and say that it was a stupid girl who did it, but she is very cute.

Spring is spreading quickly. Those bud-like buds soon turned into small palms, and peach blossoms also rolled on the branches. That speed seemed to carry some unknown danger. I'm really afraid that they will miss blooming and withering too quickly.

In fact, I was wrong. I wasn’t going too fast, and I didn’t miss anything. Everything was so peaceful. After getting in the car, I sat with him. His feet habitually spread apart to create a distance between his knees. And I sit in a standard ladylike posture. He took out a beautifully folded piece of letter paper from his pocket and gave it to me. Could it be a love letter? What should I do, what should I do?

After opening it, there are two lines of beautiful cursive script:

We are two very similar people

Some people say that falling in love with a similar person is just a matter of love. Fall in love with another self.

I don’t know if he is talking about me or himself, whether I have fallen in love with him or he has fallen in love with me. Anyway, no matter what, we just fall in love with another ourselves, not others.

One night after self-study get out of class, I met him at the door of the classroom. He said to me: Let’s go shopping. For the next month, he and I would go shopping every day. Does this count as a date? Sometimes he would conjure up two or three colorful candies, sometimes tell me one or two jokes to make me happy, or a letter with extremely beautiful cursive script. Those beautiful memories painted an extremely beautiful landscape in the memory of spring, which cannot be erased. There is this sentence in the letter that day:

There is actually nothing in the amusement park that sells happiness.

The sweet time will eventually be lost to time.

When I came to my senses, he had disappeared at the end of the corridor.

My memory of the amusement park is actually not rich. Only the Ferris wheel has an indelible impression on me. There was once a boy who took me by the hand and took me to ride the Ferris wheel. When we passed the top, he said to me, now we are like crossing the sky and crossing forever. How beautiful. Because of this, I am willing to burn all my feelings for him. I've really done a lot for him. Some people say that there is only one way to cultivate soil - let yourself rot first. I rotted myself, but this fertile soil abandoned me. It was a really dark day, as if there was only a beginning but no end. Until one day, while reading a book, I read a sentence: Love as if you have never been hurt. I cried as I read it. I felt so useless and that these dark days were finally coming to an end.

So now, what does it mean that the sweet time will eventually be lost to time?

When I saw him again, spring was almost over. I really don't know where he has been these days. But I didn’t ask, it’s pointless, right? Wouldn't it be nice to come back now?

On the bus, I talked a lot, such as the peach blossoms are about to fade, spring is about to pass, physics is getting more and more difficult, and the teachers are getting more and more harsh... It seems that the only thing missing is " I like you" was not spoken. I thought we understood each other and understood this kind of thing without saying it. Before getting off the bus, he gave me another letter, which read:

The world seems to be in a movie. We play all the roles and eventually lose ourselves.

Many things don’t actually exist, but if you think too much, you believe them to be true.

I looked at him and didn’t understand.

"Xiangsi, I'm leaving. I'm going to be late." He actually knew my name. Xiangsi, lovesickness.

It is easy for flowers to fall but difficult for them to bloom. It seems that overnight, the peach blossoms withered. The way they fall looks like butterflies with broken wings, struggling, misty and helpless. I stand here and look at the peach blossoms all over the ground with great distress. I feel that I would rather be broken into pieces than to be left intact.

A man passed the basketball court during lunch break and saw that he was playing basketball alone in the empty court. I stopped and looked at him through the guardrail.

Pingpingpingping, the sound of the basketball hitting the ground and his figure were magnified in the sunlight, and were clearly transmitted to my brain. Just looking at him like this is enough. I laughed, I must have been dumbfounded that way.

"Xiangsi, what are you doing here? Why are you giggling alone?" You ran over and took my hand and walked to the classroom.

"Hey, look at that person." I pointed at him.

You looked around the stadium and asked in confusion: "Where is there anyone? There is no one here..."

Huh? What a joke, such a big guy is playing basketball here. She said she didn’t see him shooting several balls and still didn’t get in. He turned back to me and shook his head, then smiled warmly.

"Right there, he smiled at us, look!" I pointed again. The orange basketball rolled off the court. He stood still and gently shook his hand at me.

"Xiangsi, stop making trouble. It's not even opening time for the basketball court. How could there be anyone inside?" You's serious look made me believe that he was not joking. But he was clearly inside, so I turned around to look at him in the stadium.

No one, really no one.

Ping Ping Ping, there is only my heartbeat.

Disappeared? Impossible, I don’t believe it. "Didn't you see me and a boy in the playground a month ago? You."

"No, I thought you didn't do well in the exam and was in a bad mood, so I kept following you. How could I Boy? Does Xiangsi want to fall in love?

Liar, how could this happen? I took out the letter he gave me from my bag and showed it to You, who smiled and said, "This is not you. Your own words? Your running script is very beautiful, and your strokes are slightly hooked. What's wrong? ”

I began to wonder if there is another dimension of space in this world. Otherwise, why would a good person disappear? Why can only I see him?

"You, can you believe me?"

"Xiangsi, what does that boy look like and what is his name?"

"He... ...has a very warm smile, his name is Nan..."

Suddenly I realized that I didn’t even know his name or what he looked like, and my memory of him was only in early spring. Appearing suddenly, wearing a red bean colored scarf, drinking a 500ml box of milk every day, maybe he has a capable mother and good physical and chemical skills. Most of these are my wishful understanding of him based on dreams and imagination. Who overturned the world and made us lose our way...

I looked at the letter:

It was just falling in love with another self...

In fact, there is nothing in the amusement park that sells happiness...

Many things do not actually exist, but if you think too much, you believe them to be true...

Many things don’t actually exist, but if you think too much, you believe them to be true.

It doesn’t exist, too much to think about...

Legend has it that when the first peach blossom in spring comes to whisper in the night rain and dew, the lovebirds will Will come to the world with a red bean in his mouth. And when the last peach blossom in spring turns into a butterfly with broken wings and falls, the lovebird will leave the world, but the red bean is sown into the world and turns into a beautiful memory.

The cleaners on the road swept the peach blossoms into the cleaning truck. Pink and white peach blossoms covered the cleaning vehicle, like a hearse slowly leaving with a coffin. Something is gone, gone.

Maybe nothing is missing, it’s just that spring has left.