Seven Years of Us, One Year of Me Chapter 11

Seven Years of Us, One Year of Me Chapter 11

In the fourth year, I stopped updating my account.

In the fifth year, I didn’t update it either.

He didn’t know how I was doing.

One night, he scrolled through my old posts and found the last one from the third

year.

The lisianthus on the windowsill had bloomed in a sweep of pale purple, white, and pink.

The caption said: Flowers you plant yourself bloom for you.

He stared at that line for a very long time.

Then he opened the comments.

He read them one by one.

Someone said, I broke up this year too. Thank you for keeping me company.

Someone said, I followed your writing for three years. You helped me through the hardest days.

Someone said, The flowers bloomed, and so did you.

The last comment was pinned.

It was my own reply.

The fourth year is starting. I won’t update this account anymore. Not because my life is bad, but because it’s too good now, good enough that I don’t need to write it down. Thank you for being with me for three years. I hope that in your seventh year, your first year, or whatever year you’re in, flowers bloom for you.

He exited the post.

Then he opened our chat.

The last message was still from him.

Have the flowers bloomed?

Lhadn’t replied.

He typed one word.

Happy.

Sent.

There was no reply.

There wasn’t even a Don’t send it again.

He put down his phone.

There was nothing on his windowsill.

The apartment he lived in faced north. It didn’t get sunlight, and flowers couldn’t survive there.

One year, he tried to grow a pot of lisianthus.

He watered it, fertilized it, and carried it into the hallway for sunlight.

It still died.

He sat on the balcony and stared at that withered lisianthus for an entire afternoon.

Suddenly, he remembered senior year graduation day, when I placed the necklace on top of the

sunflowers.

The necklace was the one he had given me senior year of high school.

It was thin and silver, with a star pendant.

When he bought it, he had saved two weeks of allowance.

The day he gave it to me, my eyes were very bright.

I said, I’ll wear it forever.

I wore it for four years.

It left a faint mark on the back of my neck.

Back then, he didn’t know what it felt like to wear a necklace for four years.

Now he knew.

It was the feeling of something slowly wearing a mark into you.

Once the mark faded, it didn’t hurt anymore.

But while it was still there, it hurt very much.