For the next few days and nights, I didn't think about food and tea, as if I had a serious illness.
The night before Mr. Lin came back, I walked quietly to the back of the teaching building and thought painfully all night.
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I knew what kind of resistance this "teacher-student relationship" was going to face, and I even had a hunch that the result might be tragic. I deduced a terrible result and warned myself again and again that I had to interrupt this emotion.
But in the end, all determination and occasional reason collapsed in the face of crazy emotions.
Love him, love with life, love with youth!
Yes, sing a contemporary Liang Shanbo and Zhu Yingtai and play a Chinese version of Romeo and Juliet!
When the dawn of the east dyed Zhaoxia slightly red, a firm and bold decision was made in my heart: to express my love to teacher Lin, at the moment of the next time I see him.
When I was studying by myself that night, I didn't go to the class. I lied to the monitor that I was ill.
I know Mr. Lin will come to see me in the dormitory.
Sure enough, more than half an hour after class, Mr. Lin, with a bit of tiredness on his face, appeared in front of me.
He looked at me with concern, and I began to sob inexplicably, which made Mr. Lin at a loss.
A few minutes later, I suddenly stood up, stuck a letter to him with my head down, and ran quickly out of the dormitory.
It was a love letter filled with self-esteem, bravery, fanaticism and inexplicable tears of a romantic girl.
That night, I seemed to be really ill. I didn't fall asleep until the middle of the night.
I had a lot of strange dreams. One moment I dreamt that Mr. Lin was shaking my love letter and ridiculing me, scolding me for not being ashamed at a young age, and then I dreamt that Mr. Lin took me by the hand, looked at me affectionately and said, "I love you."