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初次跟你见面是在1999年的冬天,在当年最好朋友的家里,她拿起你对我笑,阳光哗啦哗啦地从她背后流出来。现在不知道她在哪里,又过着怎样的日子,只有亲爱的你陪伴在我身边,依然是当年的模样。三年前,家乡是我的小世界,爸妈是我的避风港,而你属于我好朋友中最亲的几个。每个月初是我最幸福的时候,那天下午,我会百米冲刺般奔回家,书包一甩,直冲书房与你相会。你跟我说世界上最温暖的事,说童年的回忆,说乡村的故事,以及有趣的校园生活。不过我最喜欢听你说文学大家的故事,那些发黄的回忆重现在眼前,好像只要我愿意,我就可以跟着你一起回到过去的旧时光里,吟诗作画,不亦乐乎。家里困难的时候,
The first time I met with you in the winter of 1999, in the best friend’s house of the year, she picked up you and smiled at me and the sunshine splashes out of her back. Now do not know where she is, and live what kind of day, only my dear you by my side, is still the appearance of the year. Three years ago, my hometown was my little world, my parents were my haven, and you belong to the best of my best friends. At the beginning of each month is my happiest time, that afternoon, I will sprint like a hundred meters back home, school bags shuffle, straight into the den and meet you. You tell me the warmest things in the world, memories of childhood, stories of the country, and interesting campus life. However, I most like to hear you tell the story of literary people, those yellow memories reappear in front of me, as long as I want, I can follow you back to the old days, poetry and painting, enjoy themselves. When the family is in difficulty,