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Laughter, Tears, and Goodbyes |
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If it weren't for the teacher's deliberate arrangement, perhaps I wouldn't
have known about your existence in this class until graduation. However,
despite the short time we've spent together, the impression you've left on
me is unforgettable.
The first thing I noticed about you is that you love to smile and are very
lively. The first impression was good, and then I realized that we share a
similar sense of humor. When we talk, it never seems to end, but when
silence falls, you ignore everyone and seem to enjoy daydreaming. I remember
someone once said that only those who daydream have imagination. I don't
know the exact connection, but I really like that quote.
If there's one major difference between us, it's that you cry more easily.
The saying "women are made of water" fits you perfectly. Sometimes during
class, I would unintentionally catch a glimpse of you secretly crying. I
couldn't describe the expression—focused, perhaps? Or deeply engrossed? I
couldn't find the right words, and it made me hold back my laughter. I
couldn't laugh anymore.
At that moment, you appeared sensitive and melancholic. I couldn't figure
out which version of you was the real one—the one who constantly smiled in
front of others or the one who cried so easily. Perhaps both were genuine. I
couldn't differentiate or understand how someone could be so changeable. I
am also changeable, but I don't cry. At most, I stop laughing suddenly
because it loses its meaning, and then I just don't laugh anymore. But I
don't understand how someone can be laughing and suddenly have tears
streaming down their face. Maybe that's why others say I'm "brainless." I
only know how to laugh foolishly and don't understand what it means to be
sad.
One day at noon, while everyone else was sound asleep, I couldn't help but
feel a deep sadness welling up from within me for no reason, and I began to
cry. You seemed a bit surprised but then told me, "Cry, it will make you
feel better. Really, it will." And it did make me feel somewhat better, more
at ease. But I still couldn't understand why I wanted to cry. Perhaps it was
your influence. Later on, I learned to use crying as a way to release my own
stress and vent my dissatisfaction. You taught me all of that.
When I found out you were leaving, it took me a while to process it. Why
couldn't you wait until after the high school entrance exams?
You were busy packing your things over there, and there were so many gifts
that everyone had given you, as if we would never see each other again. It
was all so grand, but I didn't know what I could do or how I could help you.
That's when I realized that I hadn't done anything for you. Just like now,
I'm sitting here dumbfounded, watching you busily and happily going about
your tasks. But I know that at some point, in a place where no one is
around, you might cry alone, and there's nothing I can do except say,
"Friend, don't cry. |
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Answer |
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If it weren't for our teacher's arrangement, I might never have known you
existed in our class until graduation. Despite our short time together, you
made a lasting impression on me. You were always smiling and lively, but
also prone to tears. We shared a similar sense of humor and could talk
endlessly. I couldn't understand the contrast between your constant laughter
and sudden bouts of crying. However, your emotional vulnerability influenced
me, and I learned to release my stress through tears. When the time came for
you to leave, I was taken aback. I watched you busily preparing to go,
unsure of how to help. I knew that even though you smiled, you might cry
alone. All I could offer was the simple words, "Friend, don't cry." |
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