Some stories about what happened in the rain

an autumn rain brings a layer of cold. It feels as if the hot summer is still very close to us, but I never thought that after a heavy rain without any premonition, summer gradually lost its spirit in reluctance, and the cool autumn gradually entered our sight with steady steps.

At this moment, the rain is a little exhausted, and the torrential trend has long been bound by meticulous lingering. The dense rain has an irresistible temptation! So, ignoring the strange eyes of passers-by, holding a paper umbrella, walking slowly in the rain, listening, and the intermittent raindrops falling on the top of the umbrella, "Chip, Chip, Pa ..." merged into a piece of scattered rain rhyme, under the umbrella, quietly listening to the wonderful pure strings played by nature, looking at the world wet by the rain without goals, and my mood was in a trance and I didn't know where to go ... I remember reading such a sentence, "Good people always use the scars of the past to stimulate their own hearts, add more hardships to their tired hearts, brew a glass of wine with bitterness, and swallow it silently ..." I don't know if I can be regarded as a kind person, but at the moment, in this rain, my tired heart is somewhat sad because of the superimposed bitterness. Stubborn thoughts in my mind originated from a friend long ago. I thought about it carefully. I haven't seen her for more than three years, but I didn't expect that when I saw her again, I was really changed.

More than one person has said that there will be no real friendship between colleagues because of interests and competition, but there has never been any suspicion between me and her. We arrived at work in the same year, but I was assigned and she was transferred. She had a happy family, a husband with a gentle personality and a lovely daughter. Although she is not rich, the simplicity and warmth of her family are what we young people who just graduated often miss! Her personality is bright and clear, and she is good at cooking, so her small home has become a good place for us immature families to have a rare tooth sacrifice. Every time we get together, she is busy in the kitchen, and her husband is smiling, and the envy in our hearts has long been revealed through our eyes. The love and harmony between her and her husband has unconsciously become our model and secret pursuit.

Or, God is really jealous of the happiness of ordinary people! In the world of mortals, there is always the temptation of cliches. When ordinary life is squeezed by rot, her husband betrays his original oath. The so-called love has finally become the most ironic joke. The happy life that we once envied was broken. When another woman found a friend with her child in her arms and prayed for her fulfillment, her friend completely collapsed. She took the most intense way, arguing, making trouble and even dying to save her family. Unfortunately, when a man's heart was branded with betrayal, he would never care about her life and death again. Everything seemed like a farce. Her home, which made us linger at the beginning, also lost its original charm.

Later, she spent half a year in the hospital, but the man who had cared for her tenderly didn't know who was with her. In that half a year, I took time off to accompany her in the hospital, listening to her crying, but I was speechless. Until finally, she was speechless, only when she stared at a corner with empty eyes, the faint tears were still there. Can heartache really heal?

in the rain, I clearly heard the most helpless sigh in my heart. Outside the umbrella, the rain is dense, and those speculations and careful thoughts caught in the rain's imprint come in an endless stream, and a kind of inexplicable remorse fills my heart, and I feel gloomy.

After that incident, my friend took a leave of absence and went back to her hometown. At first, because of my worries, I frequently called her to talk with her and relieve her depression. But most of the time, when I call, she is just silent. I know that my explanation is of no help at all. Her injury is a pain I can never understand. Maybe after a period of silence, she will come out slowly. In this way, I stopped bothering her by phone, and gradually, as time went by, her pain was no longer remembered by anyone, including me.

Meeting again was unexpected. Half a month after my public holiday, on the first day of work, I opened the office door, and she stood behind the door. When I was in a daze, I was surprised and couldn't help hugging her and talking incoherently. But I didn't expect her reaction to completely extinguish my excitement and excitement. She was so faint, even indifferent, and broke away from my hug, mumbling, glancing at me and dodging. Her eyes are cold, empty and without any color, which is a kind of disconsolate and illusory that I have never seen before. I froze, and my heart fell into icehouse. For a while, I didn't say anything. I didn't wake up until other colleagues cheered around me and shouted that I finally came back to work. Aside from all my colleagues' greetings, I eagerly asked my colleagues what happened during my absence from work. What time does she go to work? But my colleagues immediately kept their mouths shut, took a tacit look at each other, and then turned to look at her in the other room. They shrugged their shoulders helplessly and whispered in my ear: "She has been here for four or five days, but no one cares or talks to anyone, as if-it seems that her spirit is a little abnormal ..."

I was shocked. I thought that the comfort of her family could always soothe her after staying with her parents for three years. I was no longer interested in other things, so I sat quietly beside her and told her what we had said before. I hoped she could hear my call and feel my heart's concern, but I was disappointed. She was silent, as if nothing had anything to do with her. No matter how ardently I expected it, she never even raised her head ...

Suddenly shivered and subconsciously tightened her shoulders, only to find that a gust of wind blew past. The coolness it carries makes me shudder. Today, another colleague whispered something in his ear: "There was a meeting in the hospital to study, and I was afraid that she would have an accident, so I had to send her to psychiatric treatment!" Or let someone from her family take her home to recuperate ... "

I sigh mournfully, and the world of mortals is rolling. Who can be unharmed and who can be painless? Everyone has his own story in his heart, and everyone has a wound that outsiders can't walk into. Perhaps this is her destiny takes a hand's pain, but, how to resolve the scar, in order to minimize the damage, this is what we should think carefully and take seriously, isn't it?

The rain is still lingering, and the world outside the umbrella is foggy. Autumn rhyme is near, summer sentiment is far away, a season, ignoring the joys and sorrows of the world, passing away without nostalgia, drifting away. And another season, whether we look forward to it or not, comes into our field of vision with vicissitudes. Some mottled worries, with the summer mood fading away, should have gradually dispersed and disappeared into the invisible, but why bother to hold hands, suffer yourself and hurt others? It's charming when it's raining, but it can also have another beautiful scenery after the rain clears! The so-called different hearts appreciate different scenery, that's it. What's the point if you are obsessed with this season's abundance? What can you keep? Perhaps, people should always learn to forget, most of the time, forgetting can make the mind get deeper peace.

in the drizzle, I think about some worries like this and taste some pain. The monotonous raindrops keep repeating, pattering and dripping, and the dense filaments cover the world like a net, which makes people have nowhere to hide. I can't help sighing lightly and throwing away my umbrella. If I can't escape the fetters, why don't I be a little confused, banish my heart and let the rain wash away the dust in my heart?

Looking up at the sky and reaching out, I don't want to beg for anything, but I also want to try my best to hold everything that belongs to me, because in fact, each of us, in the open palm, has already written the true meaning of fate and reincarnation in the deep and shallow vein engraved ...

Isn't this what I wrote? I recently accidentally read the story on the Internet and I don't know if it is what you want?