How can someone who has never drowned understand the feeling of being unable to breathe?

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There is a small patch in the garden of Ms. Liu's apartment complex filled with Chinese roses. They look quite nice when they bloom, but they are very annoying when they rot. No one is willing to prune or take care of them, so the stems keep growing longer and longer. Thus, after the flowering season passes, only one or two flower buds wrapped in rotting petals remain hanging on the tall stems.

But that is not the reason why she dislikes that cluster of Chinese roses. She often sees little boys waiting downstairs for their little girlfriends, carefully picking a flower and hiding it behind their backs. Boys with a romantic spirit are always likable, but they always call Chinese roses "roses." The meaning of giving a Chinese rose to a girl is clearly very good, but after all, it is not a rose and cannot represent passionate love.

Even so, one can only blame the children for not being able to distinguish between a Chinese rose and a rose; why implicate the Chinese rose itself? I raised my curiosity.

Ms. Liu said it is because the Chinese rose is too quiet. It quietly accompanies the weeds as they grow taller and taller, then twists and tangles together, covered in spider webs. As soon as a flower grows, it is squeezed into pieces, with only an occasional one poking its head out. It is picked with full hope and given to love. Then,

"Wow, what a fragrant rose, thank you."

Actually, years of experience have taught me not to try to understand the thought process of a girl going through a breakup.

Ms. Liu just had a breakup, although her relationship should be marked with a question mark. To her, being in love meant tirelessly waiting for her Prince Charming to fall into a low point, then appearing by his side to accompany him in regrouping, and watching him set off again.

So I definitely wouldn't ignore the occasion to correct her that there isn't much difference between a Chinese rose and a rose.

I just stirred the ice cubes with a straw, pondering how to change the subject.

The old man in the shop was singing: Some people don't like to talk, so they become mutes.

But even if you deliberately hide it, the stars escaping from your eyes cannot be concealed. I guess Chinese roses occasionally envy roses. But when the option of becoming a rose appears before her, how would she choose?

It seems that secrets that are too precious are never easy to tell others all at once.

Since the first time she saw Mr. Ye, Ms. Bai has asked Mr. Ye to see a movie seven times, had dinner five times, saved a seat for his Advanced Mathematics class every time, and brought him milk tea twenty-three times. Ms. Bai said she really couldn't figure out why, even though every seat was in the prime location of the second row, Mr. Ye still failed Advanced Mathematics.

Actually, what she couldn't figure out was why Mr. Ye still hadn't confessed to her.

To her, these were probably two things that were completely illogical. So she found me, because these two completely unreasonable things had both happened to me. Sitting in the front row for Advanced Mathematics but failing the exam, and always having girls around but no girlfriend.

She gulped down a large mouthful of cola and then let out a long burp. Her teeth chattered as she asked me, "Tell me, what do people like you think about all day?!"

I feel that all of this is very natural. Failing Advanced Mathematics and being single. I did think about it seriously when asked. Then I felt that her question was nonsense.

"Failing Advanced Mathematics happens naturally, and being single is also naturally being single. If I hadn't failed Advanced Mathematics, or if I were suddenly not single, I might ask why. You know me, I have no interest in Advanced Mathematics. So failing feels very natural. Being single is probably about the same? No expectations, no interest.

Besides, you've done so much already, why don't you just confess directly?"

Ms. Bai squeezed the soda can in her hand,

"At the very least, I want to leave this matter to him. You say if I'm always the one taking the initiative, wouldn't I have lost completely?"

I was stunned for a moment because she, with her scattered brain, could say such things,

"You've already lost enough."

Mr. Ye treated our group to dinner the night he got into a relationship, but Ms. Bai was the only one not invited.

During the meal, a group of people asked the eternal wooden block, old Ye, how he suddenly got enlightened and wanted to date. He raised his glass and smiled, saying it was just a coincidence. Amidst the clinking of glasses, steam fogged up Mr. Ye's glasses, and then they were gently taken off and wiped by the girl beside him.

"I never thought he was really so simple that he could accept anyone with a bigger chest who confessed to him."

This was the first sentence Ms. Bai said after seeing me. The second sentence was:

"I also can't accept all the silly things I've done."

I asked the bartender to add some ice for her.

"That's why, liking him is not as good as liking me. Otherwise, you think you've done so many silly things and can always move the other person, but in the end, they didn't even notice."

Ms. Bai did nod seriously, then asked if she could continue to like Mr. Ye.

"Is your alcohol tolerance that low? You're drunk after just this much."

This kind of conversation usually doesn't happen between me and Ms. Liu. Of course, Ms. Liu wouldn't ask me such questions either. Later, one night around three o'clock, I received a text message from Ms. Bai. She said she woke up and found that she still liked Mr. Ye very much.

I replied at eight o'clock, "You'll forget it once you say it out loud." Then I fell back asleep, and incidentally skipped the three morning remedial classes for Advanced Mathematics.

Some people are destined to speak of love recklessly.

Ms. Yang, who did not want to reveal her name, asked me what to do if you fall in love with someone who is impossible. Because it's impossible, no matter how much you love them, you only have to give up, right?

Falling in love with an impossible person is like planting a dull seed. It might be buried too deep, or it might have been in a drought for too long. It will bloom, you just have to wait.

She just asked me,

"Why don't you say that to Ms. Bai?"

So, consolation is ultimately just someone shouting "cheer up" at you from the shore. They can't give you a straw, nor will they jump down to save you.

In order not to drown, you have to learn to swim in the water yourself.

As for those on the shore, they will be happy if you come up, sad if you drown, and they will shout loudly, letting you know that someone is making futile efforts for you.

However, how can someone who has never drowned understand the feeling of being unable to breathe?