生活是一部剧本。从一开始，就不受控制地向前谱写着什么。形形色色各种各样的人，突然的出现在剧本当中，认识不认识，那都是缘分。

我有一个阳光般的童年，小学时人很多，互不相识却又在一班里很正常。只是一个女孩引起了我的注意。在欢闹的操场上，只有她一人靠在墙上望着远方。恬淡的表情，却不时流露出缕缕忧伤。

我鼓起勇气，问:“可以交个朋友么?”她转过身，用手拉起我的手，“可以。”只是这样，从此我们俩再也不形单影只了。

慢慢地，我理解了她许多的秘密。她的爸爸妈妈离了婚，去了远方，她跟着奶奶生活在这个城市里，早早了解了世态百般悲凉的她变得坚毅而又脆弱。她把我当成知己，缓缓地倾诉着远方的事情。

当小学五年级毕业的那一天，闪亮的金色丝绸铺盖上大地时，她的背影突然转过来，抱住了我:“如果努力，我希望我们能够上一所初中。”我愣住了。这句话飘忽着，在年末的九月却实现了。

大家都去军训的时候，我和她因没有军训服而留到了教室里。她变得既熟悉又陌生;剪了一个“小子头”，却依然笑着对我说，“你的画风变好看了。”至此，我的记忆便一片模糊了。她最终还是转学到外省了，只留下一条告别短信，一条极短的告别短信:“希望在某一天，还能遇见。”

也许没有人会记得“她”，一个坚强的孩子。她就如深秋的落叶一瞬间便落到地上，却在我心中留下了深深的擦痕。由那条短信留下的联系方式，我一直没有勇气去拨通。我想在许多年后，省去中间繁杂的蜕变过程，直接见到长大后的你，就是不知道我们还能不能一下认出双方。

期待与你相见的那一天，我的朋友。

英语翻译：

Life is a script. From the beginning, he wrote something uncontrollably forward. All kinds of people suddenly appear in the script, knowing or not, it is fate.

I had a sunny childhood. There were many people in elementary school, and it was normal for me to be in the same class without knowing each other. Just a girl caught my attention. On the lively playground, she was the only one leaning against the wall and looking into the distance. The calm expression showed sorrow from time to time.

I plucked up the courage and asked, "Can you make a friend?" She turned around and took my hand with her hand, "Yes." It was just that, since then we will never be alone.

Slowly, I understood many of her secrets. Her parents were divorced and went far away. She lived with her grandmother in this city. She became resolute and fragile after she had learned about the sadness of the world. She regarded me as a confidant and slowly confided in the distant affairs.

When she graduated from the fifth grade, when the shiny golden silk covered the earth, her back suddenly turned around and hugged me: "If we work hard, I hope we can go to a junior high school." I was stunned. This sentence was erratic, but it came true in September at the end of the year.

When everyone was going for military training, she and I stayed in the classroom because we didn't have military training uniforms. She became familiar and unfamiliar; she cut a "boy head", but still smiled and said to me, "Your painting style has become better." So far, my memory has been blurred. She eventually transferred to another province, leaving only a farewell text message, a very short farewell text message: "I hope I will meet again someday."

Maybe no one will remember "her", a strong child. She fell to the ground like a leaf in late autumn, but left deep scratches in my heart. I have never had the courage to dial the contact information left by that text message. I think that after many years, save the complicated process of transformation and see you directly when you grow up, just don’t know if we can recognize both sides at once.

Looking forward to the day I meet you, my friend.