The thunderous applause rang out once more.
I watched as April and his wife exchanged vows, rings, and a tender kiss.
Memories of the young him flooded back.
"April, do you like me?"
"Yes."
"Will you always remember me, April?"
"I will."
"What if one day I die?"
"Silly, Vivian will be safe and sound."
That spring day, the carefree youth kissed the blushing girl for the first time and made a promise.
"When spring comes, April will come to marry Vivian."
But alas, I can't wait for spring.
I had briefly met a warm spring, but like withered wood can not embracing spring, Vivian may not vividly alive.
April, spring is coming, may you be happy.
I closed my eyes, letting tears roll down.
Mom seemed to sense something and held me tightly in her arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Vivie, don't cry, we won't watch anymore, we won't."
I really didn't want to cry.
Not at all.
I am Mom's strongest daughter, even after being diagnosed with a brain tumor, taking so much medication, undergoing so many chemotherapy sessions, losing all my hair, I never cried.
I was strong.
But now, I couldn't stay strong.
Vivian is dying.
I struggled to open my eyes and gripped Mom's hand tightly.
"Mom, I won't cry, don't be afraid."
Don't be afraid.
I wanted to say I'm sorry, but Mom's eyes were too red, and suddenly I couldn't bring myself to say it.
I wasn't a good daughter.
Pampered by Mom and Dad like a precious gem before adulthood, afterward, I caused them to grow white-haired and stooped.
It was me who burdened them.
Even having to attend their child's funeral before their time.
Mom, I'm sorry.
I could only murmur it in my heart.
The surgery was scheduled for 1 PM, and I was wheeled into the operating room.
Before the surgery began, my head throbbed terribly.
I didn't know if it was the illness or my own heart playing tricks on me.
Those searing, indelible memories kept rolling in my mind.
I remembered the day when I broke up with April.
It was the third day after graduation, when I proposed the breakup to him.
He looked at me in disbelief, thinking I was joking.
But I wasn't.
I repeated the words I had just said seriously and cruelly.
I said, "let's break up."
"Why?"
That was the first time I saw April cry.
Hot tears fell from his cheeks, one after another.
He refused to accept it.
"There's no reason, I'm just tired."
I pinched my palm, trying hard to swallow the lump in my throat and stop myself from crying.
Can't show weakness, can't cry, can't... regret.
"April, there will be others who love you besides me, and I will love others."
"Forget about me."
Vivian no longer had the right to like April.
During the physical examination, I found out there was a problem.
The doctor diagnosed that I might have a brain tumor.
At that moment, I felt like the world had ended.
How could I have a brain tumor? I was only eighteen.
I still wanted to share the future with April, and live my own life.
How did I get a brain tumor?
I broke down, but no matter how much I screamed, the diagnosis clearly stated "brain tumor."
There was no hope for me.
From that day on, my parents started running around to various hospitals for me, and in just a few days, their hair turned white.
And I took a leave of absence, everyone assuming I was ill.
