Another lonely and quiet year.

0FE4CAD9-F103-452F-AEBC-B6B45DB54B14.jpg
{% meting "1363948882" "netease" "song" loop:none%}
I don't know when it started, but the passage of time has become clear.
When I was a child, there were many long, drawn-out times: washing dishes in the kitchen while the family gathered to watch TV, squatting at the door of my sister's classroom waiting for their math teacher to finish the lesson, the last class on a Friday afternoon, and those ten days leading up to the New Year. I would wake up in the morning, mark the calendar, go out to play, and come back to find that only half an hour had passed. Then my mother would nag me to hurry up and do my homework, and when the smell of food wafted in, I would drop my pen and look up, only to find it wasn't even noon yet.
The brain is always lazy; it doesn't want to remember everything, so it only keeps an impression. The geese at my grandfather's house would chase people, there was an annoying neighbor, problems related to the area of a circle were hard to calculate, and the girl who sat behind me and could never beat my test scores was kind of pretty. In fact, I have long forgotten what happened to create these impressions; I only remember the feeling, and then I can fill in the details when I recall them. In my memory, those ten days before the New Year were like waiting for the New Year all over again, and washing dishes while everyone else was watching TV was the greatest punishment.
Once, when I was home alone, I made myself a bowl of egg fried rice, but I added too much oil and couldn't finish it. Looking at the pot and bowl coated in a thick layer of oil, I chose a song and prepared to start washing. The water was too hot, so I added some cold water, then put in the dish soap, rinsed them with clear water, put them neatly in the cupboard, and then wiped the table and swept the floor. Strangely, I used to hate washing such greasy dishes, but this time I suddenly felt that washing dishes wasn't a big deal; everything ended in an orderly fashion.
During final exams, I found out in advance that I had achieved a good ranking and would have to give a speech in front of a group of people. I didn't toss and turn, unable to sleep, like I used to. Although I was still looking forward to it, I knew in my heart that once I fell asleep and woke up, that day would arrive. So I slept peacefully, and the day came.
Slowly, as long as an event has a set date, the wait is no longer unbearable. Even if it is late or delayed, I know that if I wait patiently, it will come.
After Laba comes the Little New Year, then the 28th, 29th, 30th, and when you wake up, it's a new year.
After seventeen comes eighteen, then nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, and when you wake up, it's a new age.
There is more endurance for suffering, and less expectation for beauty.
I know that the prepared gift will definitely be placed by my pillow, and I know that even the most difficult days will come to an end.
Don't worry, tomorrow is next year. Good night.
Remember to wear a mask when you go out,
Happy New Year.