Past · Letters

The earliest understanding of letters was probably when I was in primary school. At that time, I felt that believing in this thing was quite Sacred. There was an unspeakable mystery hiding between two layers of sealed kraft paper. I vaguely remembered that I admired a classmate in my class because he could often receive letters. The unknown address was written on the envelope. In my opinion, the distant one seemed to come from another country. There are also those beautiful stamps and bright red postmarks, which have carved the indelible yearning and wings of letters in my heart. Therefore, receiving a letter became my strongest desire in my childhood. Later, I couldn’t remember the first letter I received, but every time I got the letter that belonged to me, the excitement and excitement would never be forgotten. Now, I haven’t received any letters from my friends for a long time. Sometimes I would say to my friends around me half jokingly and half seriously, “Why don’t you write me a letter, which should have an envelope with my name and address neatly written on it. However, to be honest, I can’t help thinking of those letters from my dear friends with my name. From the old letters in the past, I can see how seriously I read the letters word by word in the past, and then wrote back to me one by one. In ancient times, though the communication mode was simple and crude, it revealed the warmth of the pulse. Therefore, many beautiful and long-lasting stories could be derived. How many wives waiting for their husbands on a long journey stood in front of the window, looking through the bright autumn water. Finally in the evening, I received a letter from my sweetheart, a three-inch note from a small bamboo tube, saying: one day is gone, just like three autumns. If encounter the war, is FiberHome even san yue, jia shu di vangener. Maybe it was in this long waiting that people experienced the warmth and enthusiasm brought by letters. Unlike the contemporary love, it is anxious and vulnerable, and can not stand the wind and rain of the years. When I graduated from high school, I cried sadly for everyone to go to the end of the world. My friend comforted me and said: Now the communication is so developed, although they are separated, only one phone call and one text message can tell each other’s news. At that time, I was also convinced of this. Now, one and a half years later, everyone has gradually become accustomed to neglect contact. When I opened the mobile phone address book, my friends’ names were listed in front of me, but they were unwilling to press the dial button, as if they were unwilling to touch a dusty past and a long series of memories that they were unwilling to recall. I only wish you and me live quietly along their own life tracks. From the movie letter from a strange woman, we can see a leisurely and slow spiritual journey in the long waiting years. The woman in the story always loved him as a stranger, but he knew nothing about it. It was not until the woman died that he sent him piles of thick letters that he knew there was such an infatuated woman who devoted her whole life to him. And he will spend the rest of his life with deep guilt and regret. Is this more cruel punishment than death? In high school, a friend from Heilongjiang once wrote to me, saying that he wanted to be a pen pal, because he saw my articles published in magazines and liked them very much. After passing several letters, we found that we had many similarities, such as “Red Mansions”. The hateful person who doesn’t know how to cherish is like me, but he can’t continue this precious friendship. Every time he thinks of it, he always laments. If I can write a letter to myself in the past, I will tell my dear self that I don’t need to care about others’ eyes to live a good life. Cherish friends around you and get along well with them. Write down more diaries and words so that I can embrace myself in the past and record those delicate hearts and memories of youth. So that I can touch the gentle and peaceful face of the past time through the yellowish pages. Instead of trying to recall now, it is so vague and inauthentic. I still like letters as much as I did in my childhood, but as I grew older, fewer and fewer letters could be received. If one day I want to rerread the old letter and recall my years, it is impossible. It is hard to find anyone you want to write a letter. I have to admit that letters will fade out of my life, just like those passing years.

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