I have liked ten boys, but none of them are together.

my wallet is very important and personal to me, not because it contains a lot of money, but because it contains a lot of secrets and emotions.

mixed with memories, I carefully explored the old wallet when suddenly I touched a piece of paper in the innermost mezzanine.

I pulled it out and opened it, with more than a dozen names lying neatly on it.

because those names are actually boys.

I have only been in love twice, but there are more than a dozen names written on paper, which means that most of them are just ambiguous stories with no results.

suddenly found that in every stage of life, there is no result of love, the reasons are different, but they are all similar.

they even have patterns to categorize, which is interesting.

the most childish love pattern,

I have two names on my paper at this stage.

the other is the cut-in student who sits at my front table and likes to turn around and talk to me in art class.

because of the time constraint, as soon as the teacher finished painting, everyone nervously picked up the paintbrush and began to draw.

he first asked "what kind of boy do you like";

he said "how can anyone like you when you are so fat" (I weighed 70 jin at that time).

I said shoot him;

by the time the class is over, I have already finished drawing.

I laughed at him and pretended to take back my painting.

I find him annoying. In fact, it is because I am afraid that he will be scolded by the teacher because he is too busy talking to me and cannot hand in the painting after class.

in order to be handsome, we usually attract each other's attention with "hate you" and constantly intersect with each other with "dislike you".

later, many people say that when they like a person, they will use a magnifying glass to look for clues that he also likes himself.

you dare not reveal a little bit of care when he doesn't say a word of love;

Mode 2: mom says that learning is the most important thing at present.

usually occurs in the golden period of hard work.

he is not tall, wears glasses and has small eyes, but he is not a rigid three-good student. He is very humorous, but he has a cheap mouth.

he is smart, good at study and good at sports. The veins in his hands are obvious and look strong.

but every time I get really angry, he panics, his mouth becomes good, and then he puts things back in my seat.

once I asked him an English word. Our heads were very close, getting closer and closer. I could feel his short flat hair sticking up to me, but I didn't hide. It was our only warm and ambiguous moment.

before I was with someone else, I had a very rigorous farewell ceremony at home.

I blankly recalled the years when I liked him, and then seriously declared, "so-and-so, I don't like you anymore!" It took me an hour, and I cried sadly at that time.

because I didn't chase one more day, I think you don't really like me at all.

maybe we really shouldn't doubt the sincerity of those who leave the game halfway. After all, they don't get the slightest hint as to whether it's a day, a hundred days, or never.

A more mature love model,

after I failed in the high school entrance examination, I swore that I would not fall in love in high school and concentrate on studying hard. this is my creed, affixed to my body, and everyone around me knows it.

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at breakfast time, I chatted with him while nibbling bread.

I said, "what should I do?" I've eaten this, and it's pretty ugly. "

he seemed to try his best to open his mouth wide. I stuffed the half-eaten bread into his mouth, and he ate it with satisfaction.