My family lives next

Zhu Yan was only 18 when I first proposed to her.

She is great-aunt Dong's granddaughter. She comes to her grandmother's house for the summer vacation. My family lives next to Dong's. I ran to the door and cried. She heard me in the next room and came over and asked, "Little brother, why are you crying?"

Zhu Yan asked to understand, he took me to go, after the Popsicle stall, back to me to buy a red bean Popsicle. When I asked her why it was called Zhu Yan, she told me, "The carved fences and jade stones are still there, but Zhu Yan has changed them." She only said it once, and I remembered it, and I will never forget it.

She took me there every day and bought me a Popsicle bar every day. I felt that she was the best person in the world, so I told her, "Sister Zhu, when I grow up, I want to marry you." She agreed, but immediately said, "When you are eighteen, I will be thirty-six, older than your mother. Will you marry me?"

I thought about it all night before I finally answered, "Yes." Early in the morning, I excitedly wanted to run out, my mother scolded me: "to find who, sister Zhu has gone to Beijing to study university."

Goodbye Zhu Yan, I have been 14 years old, is a shy boy, often wear a worn pale pants, because I like the kind of vicissitudes of life I do not have. Zhu Yan had graduated from college that year, working in other places, this time back, because Dong Taipo died, home funeral. Seeing me, she gently hugged me: "grown up." The blood ran all over my face. I went to the funeral and she smiled at me vaguely, as if she had not seen me. I stood by her side. When people were covering her with a white cloth, I suddenly felt the weight on my shoulders. I turned my head and saw Zhu Yan crying on my shoulder. Across the clothes, I clearly feel the weight of her tears, should be cold, but like candle oil as hot, hit me a drop, was painful, I want to wipe her tears, but, lack of courage, only stand straight, let my shoulders bear her tears drop by drop, for the first time Shao strong sense of pride and strength as a man, And the weakness of her woman after three or four years did not see her, I also gradually stopped thinking about. College entrance examination, college, meet girlfriend, college life is colorful. There was a time when I was studying painting, and I was happily painting for my little girlfriend. When she finished, she looked at it for a long time and said, "It's not me." How not, navy blue skirt, flying long hair, laughing ice cream will melt soft and sweet...... I suddenly - Rin, this is not her, this is Zhu Yan.

Seems to understand his young mood in a flash, clearly is the beginning of acquaintance, is it already goodbye? At midnight I woke up and heard my own voice saying, "I am not willing."

Write tear with half a letter paper, because I do not know what to call her, finally I in the end righteously in the head to write "Zhu Yan", even the name with the surname, like called the campus intimate girl. I'm 18 years old. I'm an adult. I deserve to be her equal.

However, I regretted it as soon as the letter was in the mailbox. What reason did she have to remember me? She still looked at the mailbox twice a day. Soon the winter vacation, the New Year's Day snow overwhelming, few pedestrians in the street, but I braved the snow to go to school, a letter to see, my heart jumped up. In addition to Zhu Yan, who else can afford such a seductive word. Look up and say "little brother" kindly and distant, as if she called me from a distant childhood. And she and I have known each other for a long time. Every day, no matter how busy I was, I would write to her, not to ask her to help me, not to ask her to relieve me, but to tell her, as if I were speaking to myself, as if another heart of mine were beating in her chest. She also likes to turn over her letters page by page under the lamp. The back of letter paper, note paper, data paper and scrap typist paper is her casual and ordinary heart. But are the same, look up "little brother", between the lines of the clouds light, can not say considerate. Her fine writing, in contrast to my heavy handwriting, was clearly connected.

That fall, I decided to do something bold. It was Zhu Yan who opened the door. I held out the red rose in my hand. "Happy birthday." She looked at me suspiciously and suddenly took a deep breath. "Little brother!" She only came up to my shoulders and looked at me carefully for a long time, saying, "It must still be there."

But Zhu Yan did not change, smile is still, only more vicissitudes of life, said her beautiful face under the background. Sitting in her dormitory, holding the ice water she poured for me, I suddenly felt that I had been bothering my heart for a year, and settled down. That year I was 19, Zhu Yan 28.

She took me on a tour. Climbing the Fragrant Hill, she asked me: "Can you?" It's still adults who don't trust their children. I smiled and said nothing. I climbed up three steps and pulled her back. She looked amazed: "Little brother, you have really grown up." Yes, old enough to pursue the woman I love. On the return trip, she was tired and dozed off with her eyes closed, her head gradually falling on my shoulder. I reached out my hand and finally hugged her gently. There was a huge jolt and she slid across my arms. The warm body is close to me. Near the stop, she woke up, smiled and looked up at me, meeting my fearless gaze. She started, and her face burned slowly, slowly. It was clear to me at that moment that, for a moment, she was seeing me as a man.

Time flies, the holiday is over in the blink of an eye. On my last night, she helped me clean up. I wanted to ask an important question, but I didn't have the courage. Finally, I asked, "Zhu Yan, do you like me?" "Who wouldn't like a fine boy like you?" she said gently. Oh, she finally said she liked me.

The next afternoon when I got home, at the dinner table, my mother suddenly said, "Gee, you have been to Beijing, why didn't you go to see your sister Zhu? According to your uncle Zhu, she's getting married..." I can't hear any of the following.

Her door was ajar, and I could see her sitting by the window. That night there was a big, round moon, and her sad face in the moonlight seemed thoughtful. I could not know what she was thinking. She's an adult, and I'm a child. When Zhu Yan saw me, she was surprised: "Hey, you didn't go back? Or, again?" My eyes kept on her. "You're getting married. Why didn't you tell me?" Then she smiled. "There's nothing to say." "But, but, you said you liked me," I said aloud.

Zhu Yan's face changed and she stared at me. I crouched down at her knee. "Do you love that man?" She shook her head slowly. "In this day and age, it's ridiculous to talk about love." "Since you don't love him, then give me time, give me three years, in three years I will graduate, I can marry you, I," my voice suddenly choked, "I, I like you." Zhu Yan barely opened her mouth, as if she wanted to smile, but suddenly tears poured down her cheeks. "I always thought it was my delusion. So ', so true. But how do I have time for you? I'm 28. I'll be 31 in three years. How can I take my happiness to bet a young promise. Go home, little brother."

I asked softly, desperately, "Did you really like me?"

She nodded. "Yes, I like you."

I thought this was goodbye, study, graduation, looking for a job, a little lick their wounds, holding thousands of miles away Zhu Yan joy and sorrow.

One day, on the bus, late, I recognized the familiar figure, knowing that it is impossible, I still blurted out: "Zhu Yan." She turned to me and smiled quietly.

Four years passed, and I was 23 years old. She was 32, with wrinkles around her eyes, but even more beautiful. We talked casually, and when she divorced and moved back to the city, she gave me her phone number, and we went back and forth lightly ever since. Walking in the street, like to see our profile in the window, my tall and her petite, so match, can not see any difference. One day, I invited her to sit in my dormitory. The room was very small. She sat down on the bed and knocked over a wooden box. I crouched down too. "This is Popsicle paper. You bought it for me 14 years ago. One a day, that's 38." "Do you remember," I said softly, as her breathing suddenly sped up, "you promised to marry me when I was nine. Would you like it now?" I began to send her flowers every day, big bunches of red roses with the simple words: "Marry me." Zhu Yan kept away from me. After 98 handouts, she finally asked me to meet her and said, "Little brother, I have decided to marry a 50-year-old widower." My heart sank. "Why, after asking you to marry me 100 times since I was nine, are you still not impressed?"

There was a long silence. "Not because I can't be moved by you, but because I have been moved, and there was a time when I really wanted to marry you this way. But, I was 23, and I loved someone with all my heart, and I believed in you, and by the time you're 32, maybe everything will change. And by then, I'll be really old. Sorry, little brother. I can't afford to lose."

Zhu Yan has gone, I sat in the cafe for a long time, for a long time, heard the radio at the next table, the host is broadcasting the hotline number, suddenly a heat wave in my heart, I rushed to the nearest public phone, press the number.

The phone: from the first Popsicle, to the last rose 14 years later, she is always the only bride in my heart, the partner I would like to hold hands in the world. Apart from us, is time, time is really invincible? "Should I love her?" I asked.

I put the phone down and immediately went to the stereo store next door to buy a radio. I adjusted the channel trembling and held my breath as if waiting for God's judgment.

First call: "You should love her." Second call: "She should love you." It seemed that phones all over the world were ringing for this channel, and one after another, there were all kinds of voices.

"Time is not a reason, there is a reason also called love!"

"Life is a big gamble, be a responsible man, let her bet, let her win."

And one last phone call: "Ask her to marry you again!"

By this time I was standing at Zhu Yan's door, and the radio was coming from her room, along with her sobs. And I raised my rose, knocked on the door, and made my 101st proposal.