Passengers – The Journey of Youth (pt2)

At that time, the students of the class chose Dinh Tien Hoang school, almost acquired more than half of the city awards, so almost everyone who got the prize in the class I wanted to apply for the best class in any school. Secondary school in Hai Phong has no specialized schools (canceled), and there are 3 best schools located in 3 different districts: Tran Phu, Hong Bang and Chu Van An. Nearly half of the class – including myself – went to Tran Phu, because it was famous and also closest to the center. Before I asked her, I already knew that she was going to study Hong Bang. Because Hong Bang was closer to her house than even elementary school who walked here every day. But children, there is no way to get involved in the macroscopic decisions of adults. Children that, inside, still have small hopes like a firefly in the middle of the night. Children who, bravely ask questions, only to see the light flickering out, like a fire inside.

That day, I watched for a long time following her footsteps, exiting the school gate, and walking in the direction of Ben Binh street. Until now, it is still the most beautiful street in Hai Phong in my heart.

But not all, my first love story does not go away so quickly. I don’t know whether to be happy or sad, but when I was in grade 6, my elementary school friends had a lot of rumors that she liked me too. And through a mutual friend, we even exchanged gifts. It was a bit embarrassing to say it out, but the gift I asked her to send her was a ruler engraved with a few words, and she gave me a small stone statue. These are the lines I wrote nearly a decade ago in a yahoo 360-era blog:

It’s just a stone statue, but why am I so happy. So 2 days in school, I stuffed it evenly in my bag, and took out my books, it all fell and broke a corner. Go home and get the 502 glue to stick, but miserable, how can I pick up the fragments of the baby, so it was messy, and then I left it at home from there, and put it behind the whole gifts. other.

Is it something we feel the more important, the more we try to hold it with our hands, the more fragile we feel?

Or is it just that the immature hands of a 6th grade kid like me were too young at that time?

In March of the 6th grade year, the birthday of a pretty close friend in middle school. I invited her and me. I must have had a dull suspense that I lost sleep the month before. I haven’t seen each other for almost a year, and every night I think I don’t know what to say when I see each other. In the end, I still couldn’t say anything, and once again watched her walk away, utterly helpless. After that day, I also gradually let go of my feelings for her, partly because of that feeling of helplessness, partly because the old classmates in Hong Bang side used to tell half-jokingly that she was bad at secondary school. very rock, and even cursing, but not as gentle as I imagined.

At high school, we went to the same Tran Phu specialized school, but by this time it might be too late. Without reviewing my chat history or anything, I still remember that the last time we talked was when she asked about the day we took our college entrance exam together. That’s all. Up to now, just looking at her on Facebook, I still see the same as the girl in 5th grade, her lines still intact like that at all. But it was a complete chapter in my life, maybe the only one I could close without any hesitation.

Thank you very much. I still keep the gift of that day, on my bookshelf.

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