When you met me, I was already of marriageable age, you never saw me climbing trees with a group of boys.
When you met me, I had long hair for a long time, you didn’t see me shocking everyone in the canteen with my layered short hair.
When you met me, I could take care of myself, do housework when feeling down, hand-wash all kinds of clothes, you didn’t know the old me who couldn’t wash socks and never cleaned the floor.
When you met me, I knew how to consider others, was accustomed to listening, never interrupted others, you never experienced the time when I was arbitrary, didn’t listen to anyone, and did things my way.
When you met me, I controlled my temper, never yelled at people, you didn’t know that I used to throw things and tear paper when angry.
When you met me, I was rational, friendly, restrained, used to smiling, you didn’t see me emotionally breakdown, cry until breathless, or even saw me acting coquettishly.
When you met me, I had developed good eating and exercise habits, you didn’t know I used to love fried food, hate running, could eat half a basin of ribs at 10:30 at night, and feed myself to over 100 pounds.
When you met me, I could do simple makeup, knew when to wear black stockings or leggings, you didn’t know the old me who only brushed my teeth in the morning, didn’t wash my face or comb my hair, and could go to school like that the whole day.
When you met me, I already knew how to deal with strangers, how to leave a drinking session unscathed, you never saw me blush when speaking, or getting drunk and sleeping all night from a bottle of beer.
When you met me, I was already like this, a finished product that either fits or doesn’t fit your ideals, you can no longer be a part of my growth, can’t see me from being immature to mature, from not being gentle to being gentle.
So, the person you met and liked is ultimately only half of me.
You can’t understand my various strange taboos, can’t comprehend me daydreaming to an old song or a particular scene, can’t understand my persistence, giving up, forbearance, and waiting.
Similarly, when I met you, you wore shirts with collars to work, I didn’t know what you looked like wearing a basketball jersey; when I met you, you didn’t mind spending money on meals, but you didn’t experience those days of financial strain, saving money to have a feast when you were with me; when I met you, you knew different flowers represent different meanings, and the girl who taught you all this as you grew up wasn’t me.
We met halfway, both finished products, those who shaped us have drifted away with time.
Should I lament or should I be grateful, others taught you these things, accompanied you as you grew up, then you went separate ways, only to end up by my side. I should be fortunate to see you as mature and polite, knowing what to say to women, and how to be likable.
But how I wish to have someone grow with me, be young and carefree with me, from youthful to mature, all in one person, to see the growth in each other’s eyes.
Regrettably, all travel companions are temporary, I finally grew up on my own, followed different teams, and in the end, I’m still alone, growing up in solitude.