那些我们以为发生过的事情,其实从来就没发生过,那些我们以为爱过的人,却永远地爱着我们……——题记不忧愁的脸,是我的少年;不诚惶的眼,等着岁月去改变。最熟悉你我的街,已是人去夕阳斜。总有人在街边道再见,是谁的声音在唱我们的歌,是谁的琴弦撩我的心弦,回头的瞬间,我明白了,那就是“坚持”。离开,让一切变得简单,而我像个孤单的木偶,失去了和我形影不离的另一个木偶,从此被人遗弃在角落里落满灰尘,在孤单 Those things that we thought had happened have never happened. Those whom we thought we loved, love us forever... The faces that don’t worry are my boy; I don’t look sincerely. Wait for years to change. The street that is most familiar with you and me is already someone going to the sunset. There are always people who say goodbye on the street. Whose voices are singing our songs. Whose strings are my heartstrings. The moment I look back, I understand, that is, “stick.” Leaving, letting everything become simple, and I’m like a lonely puppet, I lost another puppet that is inseparable from me. From then on, I was deserted and covered with dust in my corner.