1. Related to longing

"Embroidering love, embroidering thoughts stitch by stitch"

Hi, let me miss you quietly, just Thinking of you quietly like this.

Who said missing you is painful? There is a hint of sweetness in all the flavors. Love is strong, thinking is strong, and love is even stronger when drunk...

When I saw my smile in the mirror from the side, I realized that you have been here...

In front of the table The lights are dim and when the music plays, my thoughts have already drifted into the distance. The wind chimes on the balcony are crisp and loud, but I am alone, thinking about you quietly like this, missing you...

Missing is like the bird on this brocade handkerchief. I am the worst at making embroidery, but I like handmade embroidery. Once in a small embroidery shop, I was obsessed with watching the master's concentration when inserting and removing the needle. For a few moments, I looked at the colorful threads on the bird's body, admired the dense stitches on it, and imagined the small embroidery needles in the unfinished state, and my mind wandered.

When I insert the needle, I miss you so much, and when I take out the needle, I feel the endless love. Hey, just let me hold my breath and embroider the word "love" carefully, stitch by stitch, every year.

"Turn into the breeze and come to see you"

Hey, have you slept? The night has faded outside the window, and the lights in the tall buildings are gradually dimming. The shadow of the plane tree swayed in front of the window, and occasionally there were a few barking dogs. The wind chimes under the eaves tinkled, somewhat lonely.

Hey, let me turn into a breeze and go see you before you sleep in the dead of night.

I won’t disturb you, I will only give you a gentle kiss on your eyebrows, and then leave a little bit of my own flavor naughtily, and leave quietly...

You wake up tomorrow morning When you do it, you will find that smell, that unique fragrance with affection, hey...

I miss you, I miss you, I miss you...

Say it in your ear A thousand times, ten thousand times...

Then, I walked back on the dewdrops. Looking at the stars, reading the language of the wind, and singing leisurely songs...

Hi, I'm going to sleep, and I will accompany you in my dreams...

"Loneliness is given by you. "Bitterness"

I don't know when I will return to that period again. If you are no longer here, I will not be able to read and read the words with peace of mind. I am restless and have random thoughts...

I know you are busy, and I am no longer a child. I cannot pester you like that, go to you and ask you...

Quietly After reading the previous words, there are many... There is always a feeling of pity in my heart...

Sometimes I wonder, is this a kind of happiness or a kind of self-torture? I read those fragments over and over again, and let tears slide through my heart again and again...

How can you be greedy for more care? In fact, my heart is satisfied.

Love, is that so? I don't seem to understand, but I just know that in a moment of thought, tears kiss my cheek; in a moment of thought, a smile passes through my heart; in a moment of thought, I sigh quietly...

"Looking back at the fleeting time"

Don't forget, don't forget, look back in time

Thoughts are faint, thoughts are also faint

You in my memory will never be vicissitudes

Ling Myself in the flower mirror, frost-stained snow is floating

Smiling softly and crying softly

Listen carefully, the wind chimes bring your greetings

In my ears Your nicknames will never change

Gentle as you, gentle as you, tipsy

2. Missing you is just a matter of one person

Window The flowers in front of me bloomed quietly, a crescent moon rose quietly, and the mottled shadows of the sycamore trees were reflected on the curtain. And I once again stood in front of the window, speechless for a long time, letting my thoughts drift in the wind in the vast night. I know, I'm thinking of you. Such longing is buried deep in my heart, secretly hidden deep in my memory, and placed in the softest place in my heart.

I miss you, I just miss you. A certain atmosphere reminds me of you; a certain fragment reminds me of you. At this moment, I don’t want to talk, I just meditate quietly and remember for a long time. When I gaze, I want to capture some details. Those tiny moments make people feel distressed, loved and cherished.

Never ask, have you ever missed me? Have you ever been like me, missing you silently when you are quiet? Because, I know very well that missing is just a matter of one person.

The misty rain is misty, and the fragrance of lotus hits my face. I like to be alone in the rain, walking along the lake embankment, passing through the garden gate, passing the pavilions and pavilions, wandering all the way, thinking about you secretly. The past flows gently in my heart. When I look back, you are there, standing on the white lotus, looking at me gently.

Do you remember that time I pestered you and asked you to treat me to something to eat? You from afar said with a smile, "I can't find a place to eat." I said, "Eat in Daming Lake. You stand on the lotus leaf, and I stand on the shore, watching you quietly. Laugh." You replied with a grimace. But I was happy.

Later I said, "From now on, when I ask you to treat me to ice cream, you must say, 'Please treat me to ice cream. In Daming Lake, you will be standing on the lotus leaf, and I will be on the shore. While watching you eat... I use the first rain in the early spring of this year to make water, and put hundreds of red beans in it... And I, for you, gather snow from thousands of mountains, red fruits that last ten thousand years, and gather thousands of rays of sunshine for ten thousand years. The wind and frost, brew the wine you like, make the light tea you like...'"

Faced with my occasional naughtiness, you are always gentle, as if looking at a naughty girl. Whenever I recall this, a smile always comes to my lips. Those poetic language, those joke-like topics, those slight presumptuousness and your tolerant face always move me deeply.

I want to say, I miss you. However, such words have already been quietly placed in the bottom of my heart. I know that missing you is a personal matter. The years are quiet, and the long longing turns into a gentleness on the face, a little moisture in the eyes, and a ray of sunshine in the heart. If a person thinks about you quietly, he will accidentally get wet.

It rained continuously at night. Weather like this always makes people calm down. Amidst the sound of rain, I leaned against the window and quietly stared at the sycamore tree, watching the rainwater flowing down the leaves, and hearing the rustle of the drizzle falling on the sycamore leaves. When I looked back, I saw your words printed out on the desk.

Missing you always happens unconsciously. Such rain curtains and continuous rain also make the missing heart become tender. I know that you secretly escaped from my heart again. Miss you, miss you, just miss you. In this rainy season, I am alone and miss you deeply.

I still remember the time you taught me writing that year; I think of you smiling and saying to me that you didn’t observe nature carefully enough, and you couldn’t tell the difference between thunder and rain; I think of you who sent me the holiday Word. Thinking of your habitual words and the gentleness in your tone...

Those bits and pieces of pictures will always make me cherish them like gold. Every time they emerge from my mind, there will always be a sense of pain. Feel. I don’t know what it feels like to be missed by others. When I miss you alone, I will calm down, and my eyes will be as wet as the rainy sky. I never ask, have you ever missed me, because I know that missing me is only my business.

I like the song "Zen Road Heart Bridge". Whenever I think of you, I will listen to this song. The night is vast, neon lights are flashing in the distance, and your figure quietly appears in front of the window. The gentle breeze stirred up my long hair. And I just looked at you quietly until I saw my aging face reflected on the glass window. My tears finally flowed out. I know, I miss you, I really miss you.

How can you say such words? When facing you, I am always silent. Because I know that missing you is just a matter of one person. It has nothing to do with one’s background, years, or distance. In one thought, the end of the world is so close, and in the next moment, the end of the world is so close.

Hey, I miss you, do you know?

When you miss me, look at the clouds in the sky

Let it carry you with you, your gentle thoughts

When I miss you, I send you a few rays of breeze

Let it caress away the hustle and bustle between your brows

When I miss you, go look at the stars

Let them be sent, the whispers in my heart

Let the wind and frost silhouette in front of your window

Paint various scenery

Write all the wishes

In the flow of light

Across thousands of mountains and rivers

Separated like a dream

One person, I miss you

Three , Missing

If there is no missing, I don’t know what my life will be like. It’s like the flowers have no color, the eyes have no luster, the life has no moisture, and the soul slowly withered.

If life is without you, memory is without you. Without missing you, I don’t know what my life would be like, because you have already been engraved in my life.

If there is no longing, life will lack moving music, and those jumping notes will become boring. Leaning against the window and gazing, meditating gently, time slips by quietly, and your figure is always in front of you. Yesterday's story comes to mind; the familiar smile and gentle words linger in my heart and cannot leave.

Missing is like the spring breeze in the fields, blowing everything green overnight. It sprouts in the heart, grows, sways, and slowly grows. Those greens are the most beautiful scenery in my thoughts, and the dewdrops on them are the sweet notes in the chapter of longing. The soft taste, subtle feeling, intoxicating aroma, and tenderness fill the heart.

Missing is like the autumn rain in the long alley of hibiscus. "The exquisite dice and the red beans make me miss you deeply, do you know?" The densely woven rain silk is my deepest longing for you. The long and narrow alley seemed to have no end, allowing only me to pass by. The boundless loneliness, the cold rain, the tangled heart, the dim street lights, and those deep thoughts, like the autumn rain in the alley, make people sad, distressed, and unable to let go.

Missing is like the cold moonlight falling on Daming Lake. Open the small window, listen to the moonlight falling on the lake, and sigh softly. Willows hang over the water by the lake, the long embankment is lonely, the fragrance of lotus flowers in half the pond is shrouded in night. The light of the toad is like water, is this person well? Are you like me, admiring the bright moon and expressing my longing for you? On the small stone bridge, I lingered for a long time, the clouds moved quietly, and my shadow looked lonely under the moon.

A stream of autumn water, a wisp of breeze, and a trail of falling flowers arouse deep contemplation and long-lasting lovesickness. If there is no longing, how can the beautiful scenery in good times be in vain, adding to the sad and beautiful artistic conception, how can a gentle person be drunk alone? Those silent times will become beautiful, quiet and gentle only when you are there.

Missing is a smile in the light autumn. The heat of summer recedes quietly, and the coolness of autumn comes. The chrysanthemums are fragrant, the wind is gentle, the sky is clear, and the boat is swaying lightly. A trail of intoxicating flowers falling, a touch of sunset, a small curved bridge with the moon slanting, are everywhere in the painting, and thoughts are everywhere.

The greenery fades little by little, one leaf knows autumn, and the seasons of vicissitudes of life come alternately. Missing is like a smile in this light autumn. When the wind blows and the cold wind blows, a knowing smile line ripples on the lips. Those tranquil ones, with the smell of clear clouds and gentle wind, and the small words written on the paper, are clean and bright, with a smile. How can we not miss it? How can we not miss it in such a season? Such clear water and long sky, such clear wind and soft moonlight, quietly hold a affection lightly and hide it deeply.

Missing you gradually becomes a habit. I know that in this life, those shadows will never go away. You are my faint concern, my beautiful feelings, and my tears when I smile back. When I stare, you are in my eyes; when I smile, you are on my lips; when I am sad, you are between my brows. Missing you gradually becomes a habit, you are everywhere.

Late at night, I am leaning against the window, listening to the wind whispering in the bells. Your name melts in my heart, your smile appears in front of me, and my eyes are filled with water and clouds.

In my dream, I call your name deeply until my body and mind tremble. I know that without missing me, everything becomes pale.

Missing is a note that is hard to express, and thoughts are exiled in the fleeting years. I get quiet when I look up at the stars. Look at the moonlight like water, look at the horizontal handle of the Big Dipper, look for the Milky Way, look for your shadow... I don't know which star in the sky you are, but I know that you have been staring at me, just like I am staring at you. .

"The first is best not to meet each other, so as not to fall in love. The second is best not to know each other, so as not to miss each other. The third is best not to accompany each other, so as not to owe each other, and the fourth is the best. It’s so good not to cherish each other, so we can forget about each other. ——Tsangyang Gyatso”

A man wandered by the embankment to look at the lotus flowers and the gulls and herons flying in Tingzhou on the lake. A person walks through the path and the garden gate, and stands in the pavilions and pavilions for a long time, admiring the scenery. Looking at the path in the distance, I have been imagining that you will appear and suddenly appear on that poetic path. There was a bright smile on my face, just like me, smiling with tears in my eyes. I know very well that some emotions become gentle because of you, and some thoughts become unforgettable because of you.

I always imagine that the flower is you, your fragrance attracts me, and your grace is deeply engraved in my dreams. Sit quietly on the bench on the shore and look at you. A familiar smell floats in the air. I have been thinking about you. Do you know that life cannot be without missing you? Without missing you, the color of those lotuses will also become gray.

It’s hard to write down my longings, and it’s hard to send a small note. Pick up a missing piece and put it in a shallow dream in the stream of light. The shadows of the tung trees in front of the window are mottled, and the moonlight is white and frosty all over the pillow. The night wind carries little thoughts, and I quietly fall asleep. Time intersects, space changes, and I look at each other lightly.

That was once the lovesickness stained by ink, but the painting is not done; it was once the sound of tears falling on the string, and the song is stopped. Time flows through the hair, and the hair is as long as snow; time passes by the fingertips, uncovering the dust-covered words; time dissolves in the memory, turning the young smile yellow; time slides over the plain paper on the case, The poems I left behind were my thoughts that I wanted to send to you. The nights are long and the dreams are shallow. When I meet you at midnight, my face is filled with tears. The east wind is unbridled, is there overflowing fragrance of flowers and tenderness in the dream?

"Loneliness is locked in the poems. The moon is in the west window, leaning against the railing. I should know how graceful the clear lotus is, and the lotus-scented wind sends me tonight. The wind, frost and smoke of pen and ink have passed, the cold inkstone at dawn and dusk, the purple Mo Hongchen is lazy. Don't ask if the night is long and the fate is shallow. "(Die Lianhua)

Missing is an understatement and a tender song. On the road of life, my heart goes to the end of the world, and I write about my time. Missing, lingering in the fleeting years.