In spring, I'm waiting for you under the water prose

The sky in Shenzhen looks high and distant.

I was under a flower tree, thinking about traveling far away.

"We will be at your place tomorrow." The voice on the phone was familiar yet unfamiliar, and there was a gap of twenty years and thousands of miles. I complied and picked up the phone.

They are my junior high school classmates. Let me think about it, what were we like back then?

We were young at that time, and in the spring breeze, we were enjoying ourselves among the grass seeds and flowers outside the school gate. Purple grass seed flowers are not allowed to be eaten by cattle or trampled by sheep, and they grow wildly. After setting seeds, they lay down on the ground, and the adults brought in rakes and oxen to stir up a long wave of mud, and the grass seeds were pressed under the mud with their flowers spread out. In the gaps between the mud waves, there are still green leaves and purple flowers, struggling to kiss the spring breeze.

Before the first spring rain falls, the sunshine must be so bright that it will explode. On such an afternoon, we were in small groups, each holding a book, scattered among the purple flowers, reading quietly. Most of the time, we laugh and make noise, being blown away by the spring breeze, and look sideways at the boys whose joints are changing and their voices are changing, and the girls who are full and plump.

After laughing enough and expressing our thoughts to the spring breeze, we all crossed the shallow stream and returned to school. I still remember that the stream came from the distant mountains and made a tinkling sound as it flowed under my feet, with green grass swaying under the water. I couldn't help but touch it. The coldness was engraved in my memory and would not go away for a long time.

This freezing coldness is now surrounding me. My life is like an ice sculpture. It’s okay not to talk about it.

Who are they?

That reckless young man with young gray hair once summoned several boys to kick a girl’s lunch box as a ball. When the girl opened her mouth and howled, she hurriedly coaxed and coaxed her. That flushed face, I really want to see again now.

That short boy who was the technical commander on the court, a big brother in life, and a great student in studies, once helped my family harvest rice, pull peanuts, and move trees when my family was most helpless. I always remember the sharp whistle he blew.

There is also the proud young man who buried a small mirror in a book and secretly squeezed his pimples, but was caught by the class teacher on the spot. On the day of graduation, he asked me to date the girl he liked, my good friend. , I didn’t understand its meaning and made haste. He missed that girl after all. I owed him a favor, and I still remember that helpless sigh.

There is also that heroic boy. When my family faced a lawsuit and everyone was betrayed and separated, he stepped forward and mobilized his father to help our family. Although it didn't help, I will always remember that concerned face. My youthful emotions were once projected on him, but in the end the excitement was no match for my inferiority complex. I banished him to time and I can never get him back. His father was the only helping hand extended to me in the adult world. I will definitely go to his grave and toast him with a glass of wine during my lifetime.

Also...

What else can I think of?

I can’t remember it anymore, my life came to an abrupt end after that.

That year, my father was kidnapped by his cousin and his toenails were pulled out; that night, my parents bombed the uncle’s house and fled in a hurry. I can’t recall those old grudges. All I know is that my brother and I were chased all the way south, and then south again, and the only thing we had with us was an ID card. During those years when my mother was in prison, I kept my heart dormant and did not dare to hand it over to anyone. The year my mother saw the light of day again, I fearfully got married and gave birth to a child. Within five years, my husband, whom I had never loved, fell ill and left.

In just a few lines, it has been twenty years since I graduated from junior high school.

I originally thought that with a few more lines, I could finish the rest of my life. However, I couldn’t find the words, and my life came to an abrupt end again.

That day, I was preparing lessons in the office, and the grade leader assigned me a task. I smiled bitterly, not knowing how to refuse. But how much I want to lose it all, go back home, close the curtains, fall asleep like before, and come out again after a few days.

Her lips moved quickly. I clenched my fists and stared at her. Not long after, I clearly heard a "bang" in my head, and then I raised my fist and hit it hard on the desk. Blood came out one by one, and I raised my other hand. , the desk made a buzzing sound.

I saw the shocked faces of others. I wanted to smile at them and return to my previous dignified appearance, but I saw my fists hitting the table even more crazily. I wanted to hold myself down, but I couldn't find my hand...

Then, I came here. In fact, I wanted to come here a few years ago.

The doctor wrote "depression, severe" on the medical record, and I breathed a sigh of relief: I could finally let go of the secret I had hidden for several years. In those moments of weakness, those moments when I gave up on myself, those days when I was lethargic, I warned myself: You are sick, you have to see a doctor. But life doesn't allow me to stay. My parents, my brother, and my son all need me to stand. How can I fall?

Now that I am fine, I can finally let go of those responsibilities and treat my illness with peace of mind.

It’s just that this disease has been bothering me for too long and it’s too deep. How can I just say it’s okay and get better?

Every day I go downstairs to the hospital yard. The grass, trees, and flowers are all flourishing. The sky in Shenzhen is so blue and so high. Looking at them, I think spring has finally arrived. But the tears are flowing - what do they have to do with me?

I can see these beautiful glory, but I can’t reach or touch them. I feel like I am sinking in the cold river water. Through the water waves, I see red flowers and green willows, singing and dancing birds, but these do not belong to me. I don’t know what I am still doing here?

A bone-chilling chill enveloped me, making me suffocated and unable to move.

I think of the green grass in the shallow stream in my hometown, lying in the spring water from the melted snow in the distant mountains, swaying with the waves. The coldness surrounding it is still fresh in my memory, how similar to the cold feeling I feel now. !

However, I remembered that on the grassy bank of the shallow stream in my hometown, there were young people, sunshine, grass seed flowers, youthful time, and the grass was not lonely. As soon as the bell rings, the boy will run out, cross over its head, and cast a series of figures, leaving him panting all the way to release his vitality; when he comes back, he will hold a handful of grass seeds and flowers, reflecting his rosy cheeks. Young man, he can poke through the water waves, gently pick up the water plants, and tell them one by one that spring is coming.

A trace of warmth flashed through my dry heart. During that period of junior high school, the only bright color in my life should still be there, waiting for me to keep warm.

In recent years, I have devoutly believed in the Almighty Lord, but the Lord has only gently carried my sorrow. Since I was admitted to the hospital, I have cried every night, and the Lord, with His consistent mercy, has mercied my tears.

Perhaps, I should go back to my childhood, find that tight and repressed little girl, love her well, and hold her tightly. My young friend can accompany me to find the light of my life.

So, I left the tree flowers, waved to the sky, returned to the ward, set the alarm, took medicine, hugged myself, and fell asleep peacefully.

I will be at ease under the water, waiting for you to arrive.

You will definitely bring the whole spring and the glory of my life.