Some people say that time will be lighter, maybe he hasn't met true love yet. If he does, even if the world changes, even if the cycle lasts for a hundred years, I will still miss you, your name, your staring eyes, your faint smile, the wind and rain that you have walked hand in hand, and the dust that can be seen everywhere when you drive. Although the air is mixed with pungent tail gas, I still feel fragrant and elegant. I always feel that parting is to get together again. Although I have repeatedly said that I understand your busyness and inconvenience, I understand my inner loneliness and hesitation, and I understand the emotions that are constantly involved, which makes me extremely wronged, but I still like thinking about you.
I really want to call you loudly in this quiet night sky. Although I know that the dark night can't spread my heart far. But I always feel that no matter how far away, you can hear it. In this dreary night, I think of you, which makes this night beautiful and melancholy. I have listened to an old song "Chess Piece" for thousands of times, but I never get tired of it. I'm like a pawn in a song. It's up to you to advance or retreat. I know that one day, you and I will reach another transfer, but I will wait for you at the intersection of the transfer station and make the final decision. The bumper harvest in July made me meet inadvertently, a strange distance. From then on, we cared about each other. Our love is like a drizzle in July, which floats gently, falls slowly, seeps quietly, erodes the nerves and precipitates in our hearts. Since then, the sacred love territory has been occupied by you, and the thoughts of you have devoured our brains.
Because of the time difference, I sleep during the day when I miss you and am busy at night when I miss you. I find a time to miss you, although it is time-difference. That morning, before you fell asleep, I just woke up from my sleep. When I miss you, I am whispering, dear, I am thinking of you. Do you miss me? Maybe you also chose this stage, maybe you would rather let me leave in my sleep. In the days without you, I learned to face loneliness and helpless shoulders, and how to resolve this sleepless night of lovesickness.
Falling in love with a city is not because of its beauty, but because it has people you love. So I chose this strange city, but I waited for your return in this city alone. Although I didn't say a word, I firmly believe that you miss me too, and time doesn't give you any chance to breathe. When you came back, you were as busy as before, and you didn't have much time to accompany me, but I still secretly missed you in a corner of the city. This silent night and summer climate make me feel even more sultry, perhaps because I miss you so much that my heart hurts. Sad music is getting stronger and stronger with my thoughts, and my fingers are tapping on the keyboard quickly. Will you miss me like looking up at the sky on this dark night? The dim stars dot the cruel night sky, but I miss you in this cruel night. Practice for 500 years just to miss each other. So it is destiny takes a hand to meet and fall in love.
The butterfly can't fly across the sea, not because it has no courage, but because there is no waiting on the other side. I miss you happily, I miss you happily, dear, I really miss you!
Touching classic love letter model essay
Baby:
Kiss you first.
When you receive this letter, you must think it over. Since you were sixteen, you have received a letter every week on average. The joint service of the armed forces, the section chief of the faculty and students, the small Pacific Insurance next door, and all kinds of men have written to me, including classical Chinese, vernacular Chinese, official letters and bloody books. I'm really tired of watching it. Who wrote this letter today?
I repeat, don't be arrogant yet!
Who wrote it? Guess and guess, you won't guess. I am a lifelong ignorant person. I was born in a chaotic place. I have read several books that catch the wind and shadow, and have written several articles that argue irrationally. You have met me, but I swear that my old face will not leave any impression on you. I'm an ugly person, with five houses and seven senses progressing freely, without any attempt to cooperate. They say I look like the hunchback of Notre Dame de Paris, but I can't compare with the hunchback of Notre Dame de Paris because he is ugly, but he is honest and infatuated. He won't lose his temper with women. He will always be loyal to her, stand for her and throw stones at other men for her.
But what about me? I don't know who I am. I only heard those overseas Chinese students call me a salty wet guy in Guangdong. I heard that it means "big love stick" in Mandarin.
In fact, this really wronged me. Yes, I scribble love letters. As they say, I am a person whose love letters are flying all over the sky and everyone wants to chase them. To be fair, why should I do this? Not just because I've never chased a woman. On average, of the ten letters I wrote, at least five were cremated, four were returned and one was posted on the bulletin board. I, a bad karma, am too good to lose heart and feel inferior. Can you blame me for writing too many letters?
Speaking of which, why would I rather write a love letter for something? Love letter is a thankless thing, not now; Now is not the time for Bernard Shaw to write Roman books on paper, and no one wants to write those vows on paper and leave the handle in other people's hands. Half-hearted is always inconvenient. And now girls don't have time to write letters. Writing letters will delay the dance, go to church and watch "Out of Place". Some clever boys have long seen this, so they all ran to the girls' dormitory and dated directly. How simple! How neat! How manly!
God, the church is not for me. I'm all fours, but I'm all thumbs, dancing like a drunk orangutan. I can't go to the dance again. Although I am thick-skinned, ugly and have a good back, I can't always find girls behind my back. First, teach her to look at my back. I always turn around. But, God! I can't bear to look back.
After seeing my sister and brother, you must think I must be a handsome man. My elder sisters are all candidates for Miss China, and my elder brother also has the nickname of John Kerr in China. The ladies helped me, but their classmates gasped when they saw my true colors! At this time, I quickly turned my back on them, but I had no time to see their backs first! The most hateful thing is that behind them is China's john kerr. Every time he takes his time, I pay, but he enjoys the fruit alone!
I can't hate God, because God created man in his own image, and he would never create such an ugly incarnation. I can't hate Lao Tzu and the old lady, because then people will say that I am unfilial: so I want to hate my young lady and young master. I hate that their shortcomings are concentrated on me, but what's the use of hating? Finally, the ladies spread their spleen: Brother, please don't blame us for not helping you anymore. Please don't treat or bribe again. God bless you. Do your best!
So in a fit of pique, I decided to find my own way. A gentleman and a strange man turned to others for help in order to find a woman. Is this a hero? So I put on my coat and started wandering in the rain to attract women. But after running all afternoon, I didn't attract a girl. On the contrary, I attracted a dog at the corner of the third section of Zhongsheng South Road. It followed me quietly and stealthily, and the master followed me step by step. I don't know whether Yang's height or dogs look down on people. In short, it is sneaky, annoying and worrying at home. Finally, I couldn't bear it any longer. I had to bend down to catch the stone. Now he turned around wisely and walked away with the dog's head between his legs, accompanied by several numbers. I'm still standing in the street, but my face is full of murderous look. I'm still holding that stone in my hand, and I'm celebrating an all-round victory. Suddenly I thought of Notre Dame's hunchback. He was cool and good at stone tactics, so he quickly lost the stone. Unfortunately, it was too late, and finally a girl saw it. She smiled beautifully and sweetly, and I didn't get up. I was so embarrassed that I didn't expect such a gentle sweeping war to be such a battle. So I hate it again. I hate that damn dog. I really want to skin it and eat its delicious meat. Besides, I haven't eaten dog meat for a long time since the government banned it. You won't have a fever if you don't eat dog meat. If I don't have a fever, I won't have enthusiasm. Can I be crazy about love without enthusiasm?
Looking at the flying beast, I can't help drooling, but then again, it's no use eating dog meat. I am so ugly and grumpy, both of which are fatal injuries to my girlfriend.
I know I have a bad temper. Girls nowadays like men with soft temper. They like men to kowtow to them, and they like men to keep following them. In other words, they like men who smell like slaves. This kind of man will serve, be considerate, suffer indignities and kneel for three hours. He is not afraid of wind and rain, of waiting, of being conveyed by the girls' dormitory, of girls' words and of touching any number of nails!
It was this slave-like man who drove away every girl I wanted to chase, and also drove away the only great beauty I almost chased.
Speaking of that beautiful woman, I can't help being sour at first. She is really cute, just like Jenna Lulu Bridget in The hunchback of Notre Dame de Paris. By chance, she found that I was very talented and took my back. In the love season mentioned by Goethe, we begin to do what we can.
For me, this is of course a sudden happiness, but soon, the sudden reaction was suddenly caught up. She left me expressionless, just like I left the stone that beat the dog.
Therefore, whenever I see or hear her with a slave, I can't help but feel a kind of fancy cow dung, a heinous indignation, and I will scratch my head, strike the table, knock on the bench, curse, curse.
I hate her being with other men. Not jealous. Jealousy means that I am inferior to him. In fact, how can I be worse than him? He, smelly boy, who is qualified to compare with me? I don't even want to compete with him! Jealous? Why is he jealous of me? His only qualification is being hated by me. I hate his dog luck. I'm surprised that girls are short-sighted. I regret that I am so cute, but she doesn't love me blindly like a bat and love God! Old moon! What do you eat? You only care about whether girls love scholars or not, but don't encourage girls to love poets. I'm tired of life. I'm really tired of living!
But how can I die easily? Didn't she wish me a long life on my birthday? I die easily. Half a cup of boiling water, a bottle of sleeping pills, a horizontal heart, a stamped foot, just eat. Then my legs stretched out, my eyes stared and I couldn't breathe. Alas! But it doesn't matter if I die. What should I do without her? How sad should she be when I leave? I remember that time we rowed in Bitan for a while, and my stomach screamed. I suggest going to Ximending immediately, watching movies and eating out. She is still in the mood and wants to go boating. Persuade her not to go, I am angry: I want to row, I want to row, smelly pool, what is there to row? Why are you so headstrong? Willful? Who are you talking about? You have the nerve to call me willful. You are a great dictator. You can't live without women. You have to put on airs in front of them. Watch movies when talking about movies, and eat out when talking about eating out. You refuse to discuss with others, you don't give them freedom! I was even angrier when she was aggressive. I shouted, who won't set you free? I said that the freedom to watch movies and choose movies is yours; Let me talk about restaurants. The freedom to order food is yours. Isn't it enough that you have so much freedom? I cann't believe you called me undemocratic! Hector. You women! You women! What a woman's! Go if you don't like it! Don't think that men in the world won't come without you. What's so rare, dictatorial and ugly about you smelly literati? You go!
Really, I'm leaving. I left in anger and never looked back. I swear I will never look for her again. I walked back and lay in bed, whining, tossing and turning was just her illusion. Three days passed and I lost weight. I felt dizzy, weak and backache, so I decided to go to see her again to see if she had lost weight, too. Where is the work actually? She won't lose weight. I don't have to say what I saw. In short, this is a fatal shot, I can't kill it, I can only close my eyes.
I don't want to confess. What's the use of confession? She's not coming back anyway. It's better to be a tough guy than to fry old rice. I will be a tough guy! I took out my pillow, dried it in the sun, and swore to the pillow that I wanted to find a woman who was equal to me, hoping that she could understand Shu Zhao's truth, but I haven't found it for four years.
I don't judge a woman's education from her appearance, J, as if I don't like women. Women are seen, not understood; As for me, on the contrary, I am understood, not seen. The ancients said that love is too forgetful, and love is the worst. I wrote this pile of love letters to test whether you are an exception among girls. If the answer is yes, then I will say: love me! But don't be proud! If the answer is no, then I will say, Hector! Even I don't love me? what are you reading?
Model essay on love letter
Xiao Min: I haven't written to you for a long time. I got up early today, and I want to tell my beloved you something. Xiao Min, I love you.
How many times have I said Mandy's love? I can't count one by one. Mandy, I don't know. However, it is still difficult to restrain the undercurrent of love in my heart, and I can't help but flip the books happily on the keyboard with my hands, longing for Mandy's thoughts and deep attachment to her.
Xiao Min, Yangyang loves you more and more. Your charming smile shocked your heart; Your sigh makes you feel sad; A drop of your tear hurts when you care about it; Your silence is full of guilt. Yang Yang has been completely dumped by Xiao Min, because Yang Yang has sincerely fallen in love with the lovely Xiao Min.
Xiao Min, do you feel that you can't sleep and eat well at night? Every night, I can't help but recall my sweet love with Xiao Min. I can't help laughing and playing with Xiao Min. I can't give Xiao Min real love, and I can't help feeling sad. Maybe we can't really love each other until the afterlife? If there is an afterlife, Yang Yang is willing to live a hard life and wait for his favorite Xiao Min for the rest of his life. Is there an afterlife? No, so I would rather burn my body in this life, turn it into a little bit of gray matter, float quietly into your heart and blend into your life, because my life is wonderful for you.
Xiao Min, I know you want Yang Yang to be positive, have a successful career and realize his self-worth. I know your heart and your love. I said I would, and I will try my best to do better. My career has just started, and I still have a long way to go, but with your love as my partner, how can I be bitter enough? Affectionate greetings every night will convey our joy and infect our lives; It will release the depression in my heart for a day and purify our interest. I love you. My career is brilliant because of you.
Xiao Min, I love you. I don't want to be your partner in life and death, and I don't want to live and die together. I just want to love you once, and it won't take long to love you. I can't tell you how much I love you. Smart you can already see the deep love between my lines from my crazy nonsense.
I am here to convey
The most touching and poetic love letter model essay
Poetry is indispensable, so how to write the most poetic and touching love letter? Let us enjoy it together! The vast autumn moon is like a window. Mourn for seven minutes, sigh for three minutes, fill a glass of light wine, ask the sky and the sea, who complains about playing the piano under the autumn frost and the moon, and why tears lock the plum makeup in the mirror.
Water reflects thousands of miles, and feelings are trapped in a dream of red mansions. Cold Lake Mars is jealous of the empty space and asks when you will stop lamenting.
Tsing Yi strolled casually, a stone's throw away, thousands of miles in the air, thoughts flying, crossing the human Yaochi, crossing the ten-mile broken bridge, sobbing, no one holding hands, begging for flowers to compete with girls, and falling into the rain. There are countless degrees of plum blossoms, and there are many sorrows in writing. Dreaming of flying to Xiangjiang River and Chu River, how many times did the beauty dream back?
Twelve years of spring breeze, constantly blowing my heart, four degrees of cold rain, dripping with homesickness. Your back disappears in the autumn rain, just like the residual lotus in autumn. All the fragments disappear with the wind, leaving no red, only residual fragrance. You sound like a swallow going south. It has crossed the autumn sky, a pool of autumn water and a field ridge, leaving no trace of its apex.
I will never forget the time when white clothes fluttered, and I will remember the oath of meeting youth in the flower season. Tears blurred into unforgettable memories through dim light and shadow. I try my best to keep it in the depths of my memory. Only your lonely figure lingers, and your tears are like a flower.
Deep in the lotus pavilion, on the bank of the green willows, your clothes fluttered in the wind, your hands rolled paper, your tears condensed, and you were speechless. What a pity! Sighing the fleeting dream, I know how many flowers are flying, and the lingering fragrance of tears can't express my heart. I climbed up the old place, climbed high, and looked at your home. I am unforgettable in the misty rain, but I just missed each other.
Red flies and green willows, grass grows and warblers fly In the past, birds sang and danced with Yan, and the neon was blue.
In late autumn, begonia and laurel trees are mottled. Today, acacia falls all over the ground, haunted by dreams.
The soul travels through time and space, and I am destined to be just a passer-by in the hurried universe, but I gradually forget where I will live. I seem to be in weightlessness, aimlessly following time through endless interstellar space, but I can't get rid of your back, thin and beautiful.
I had a naive fantasy that years could erase all traces in my life, but the longer I spent, the more I proved my naivety and stupidity. Everything about you covers all my memories, and your figure stays in every street I walk. Memories of laughter and tears are staged over and over again in my dreams.
As the poem says: I think I can forget/as long as I don't look back/I think I can pretend that nothing happened/as long as I don't open yesterday's diary/but you always appear in my dreams/wake up my unforgettable thoughts about you again and again.
After the affair, it is messy, and after the red, it flies and smells fragrant. The lingering fragrance in my heart when whispering, and the tearful eyes after tossing and turning are all solidified scenery, deeply imprinted in my heart and combed over and over again.
Autumn smells all year round, including flying leaves, fallen flowers and willow leaves, as well as your thin and beautiful shadow on the bank of the cold lake and your sadness in lamentation. Beautiful flowers shine on the quiet lake, and it is difficult to comfort the grievances in your heart with your hands. A heart languishes only for Iraq, who pities the smoke of autumn waters?
The past is like a cloud of smoke, and white sand is in front of us. The moonlight on the horizon will be late, and the dream of falling flowers at night is still long.
On the edge of the broken bridge, I held a handful of West Lake water in the bright moonlight, looked at my gaunt and unfamiliar self, and remembered the smiling face with tears that I once held in my palm.
I know that there are you and me in the clouds on the horizon. Looking at the clouds on the horizon, I can't be indifferent. In the cold moonlight at night, you are tapping your fingers and plucking my dusty heartstrings. The stars in the sky convey the love between you and me.
It's another sleepless moonlight, and the lights of the half river are blurred, accompanied by the ethereal Sanskrit sound from the midnight bell, intermittent. People often say: I love to the extreme and hate life. I only have people who are old, sick, thin and yellow, and have quietly passed away after crying.
Miss tangled into old love songs, singing the silence in the depths of the soul, some blue ink wet all the spaces I miss, and a blank sheet of paper filled with all my love for you.
Sleep, in my dream, I will fly farther and fly to your side, holding your face with both hands again, and let the rain wet all my clothes, and my eyes are blurred.