我已经记不起他的样子,除非翻阅照片,照片上的他有一双会笑的眼眸,鼻翼有点点的雀斑,不开心的时候,它们便聚集在一起,像一群抗议游行的兵士。他有些霸道,骨子里流淌着不肯屈从的自负,而我却从不对他的霸道领情,以至于到最后我们都错过了彼此。我常常会设想和他重逢的画面,那应该是在街角的咖啡馆,我坐在靠窗的位置上,看着他笔挺的身姿,在灿烂的阳光下微笑着朝我走来。就像当初第一次见面时的样子,穿着迷彩服,笑容灿烂得一塌糊涂,他对着不曾谋过面的我大笑。再重 I can not remember what he looks like. Unless he glanced through the pictures, he had a pair of laughing eyes in the picture, a little bit of freckles on his nose, and when unhappy they gathered together like a group of soldiers in a protest march. He is overbearing, with an unwillingness to submit to himself, and I never take any hegemony over him, so that in the end we all miss each other. I often imagine the picture of his reunion, it should be in the corner of the cafe, I sit in the window position, looking at his straight posture, smiling in the bright sunshine came toward me. Like when I first met, wearing a camouflage suit, a brilliant smile in a mess, he never looked at me laugh. Again heavy