旧情难忘

That day was a beauteous but sorrowful day, when I sent her off at the train station.

It was a hot summer day. I was exuberant while walking side by side with her under one umbrella covering us from the fierce sunlight. I cared nothing of the sunlight, but I still walked with her like that, and, in order to hide her from the sun sufficiently, I exchanged my side with hers. She looked delicate and seemed to be in want of being protected, which was what I felt as I approached her closer, though she often gave others a bravery impression.

When I bade her farewell as she crossed the security check, my heart convulsively ached for an instant, and I knew that what I waved goodbye to was not only her but also the sweet but melancholy youthful days, which would never come back. As she was fading out of my sight, sadness fell around me and soon haunted my lonesome soul.

I was rapturous to be given a copy of her drawing album as a gift of departure; furthermore, I was much more ecstatic to find that a few places in the drawing album had something to do with me.

I once asked thrice for her hand, but she declined it. She confessed that she had no feeling for me, and we could only be good friends; and then professed to me a week before leaving school that I had not at all known about her, the real one, and never had she confided in me. On hearing the explanation, I was dismayed and, for several seconds, searched no words out of head, but I was not perfectly convinced. It unfailingly threw me into the wildest distress to confront the occasions when she rejected to accept my hand and said something like we were not matched.

To me, she was more than a beauty, for something bewitching in her captured my heart. Everything about her was gone with the train, which carried her afar, except for the remembrances of her.

Adieu! My lovely Damsel Chou. Someday, I would fly to thee on the viewless wings of time.