Hi, the boy who called me root number 2.

Hey, that boy who called me root number 2:

Are you okay? I haven't heard from you for a long time I have tried many ways to tell you that I forgive you, but I have never thought about this one.

It took me seven years to recover from the injury caused by that incident. At that time, I only knew that you might just tell a joke, but every time I was tortured by this matter, I told myself that as long as I was tortured by this kind of psychology for one day, I would never forgive you, make you feel guilty and make you unhappy.

You've been saying sorry all these years. You may not know what makes me so unhappy with your jokes that I still refuse to say a word to you after all these years. Well, I'll tell you what I experienced because of that story today.

I was 14 years old that year, and so were you. Because of early development, most girls are taller than boys of the same age, and I am obviously an outsider. We were deskmates at that time. Usually we don't communicate much, but I always regard you as a friend. Because of my good academic performance and young age, I have never cared too much about my height.

When I returned to the classroom after lunch that day, I heard your voice at the corner of the stairs: "I think there is an irrational number in our class." Your loud voice attracted the attention of most students in the class, including me. I even stepped up my pace, hoping to catch up with you. Just after a short run, your voice clearly reached my ears: "Do you want to know who it is?"

The students were full of enthusiasm and answered in unison. "You guess first, and I'll give you a hint." It's strange that you sold it at the critical moment.

"She is a girl."

Then the students noisily guessed their answers. Because I don't know that irrational numbers refer to height, almost all the girls in the class guess.

"Her grades are very good." You pretend to be mysterious.

At that time, the top eight students in the class 10 were girls. As soon as you mentioned it, you locked the scope on these eight girls.

Then the classroom was full of noise. As soon as I stepped into the classroom door, I saw you and sat on the table: "Don't guess, I'll tell you the answer, it's xxx."

"Why her?" I don't know where I got the courage to ask this question, because I already know from your expression that this is not a good title.

It seems that you didn't recognize me asking this question, and you laughed very exaggeratedly: "Because her height is only 142cm, did you agree on the root number 2?"

"bang." The porcelain bowl in my hand fell to the ground, and I felt that my face should be white with fear, and the whole person was shaking.

The sound of the porcelain bowl falling to the ground attracted everyone's attention. When you turned to see me, your face turned white. I haven't studied whether you are white or mine. I think that's when you realized that you had done something wrong.

Without saying anything, I went to the back door of the classroom and picked up the broom to clean up the pieces of the porcelain bowl. Several students came to help me, but I pushed them away.

You know exactly what happened in the next class: I went to the teacher to change seats without saying a word. You wrote countless letters of apology, and I threw them in the trash can. Turn a blind eye every time I see it. Until I graduated from junior high school, I was admitted to the best high school in the city with excellent results, and your letter has not been broken.

Of course, this is just what you see, or what I want others to see. In fact, after that incident, I became very inferior, and my inferiority reached an unexpected level. Worst of all, I killed myself. I have been studying very hard to make people around me respect me and ignore my height. I didn't keep the first place in my class in a mock exam in grade three. You may not remember. I sat at the bottom of the girls' dormitory until 2 am that night when I learned the result. In fact, I was going to jump off the building that night. I'm waiting for everyone to fall asleep and the security guards on patrol to rest. If a couple didn't suddenly appear in a private meeting, I think I would be a pile of loess now.

Unfortunately, that suicide did not give me happiness for the rest of my life after the holiday, but gave birth to some resentment. The first object of resentment is my parents.

You don't know that I am a left-behind child, lacking the care of my parents since I was a child. You know I'm good at China literature, right? Fighting and swearing really took full advantage of my advantages. I blame my parents for not paying attention to diet and neglecting my body when I was a child, which led to my short stature and poor health. My parents are honest farmers and know nothing about growth hormone and nutritional balance. I used my scientific knowledge and language talent to poke their blood. You may not know these things.

I realized that my problem was in Grade Two, and I fell in love with a boy in my class. He got good grades, knew calligraphy and played the guitar, and was simply recognized as a genius at that time. Like most girls, I carefully hide my feelings. Afraid of being discovered, I don't even have friends. If the story goes on like this, it will be nothing more than a story about unrequited love and youth. I cann't believe he confessed to me He even said that he noticed me very early and wanted me to be his girlfriend. I thought I would say no, but somehow I agreed. We didn't live the happy life of the prince and princess in fairy tales.

I fell ill less than two months after dating. I always thought he was excellent and I didn't deserve him. I always want to look at her. As long as he talks to a female classmate, I am nervous that he will leave me. I began to make trouble without reason, and began to quarrel endlessly. Do you know what this means to senior two students? It means that you spend too much time in other places when you should study hard, which means that you may miss college. Sure enough, our grades have been affected to some extent. The teacher invited our parents, and then we broke up. In fact, even if the teacher does not invite parents, our relationship is over.

Fortunately, I met a good class teacher. She noticed something was wrong with me and suggested that I see a psychiatrist. Do you know that?/You know what? Do you know that?/You know what? For a whole senior three, I have to face the pressure of entering a higher school and see a psychologist. What does it feel like to show your ugliest self in front of strangers? It took me half a year from the initial resistance to acceptance. Every night when my classmates are studying, I have to "secretly" see a psychiatrist with my class teacher.

I failed in the college entrance examination. I was admitted to one or two schools in the province. I know you failed. I thought I would be happy, but I didn't. After a whole year of psychotherapy, I became cheerful and didn't care so much about my height. I even think I am fine, but in fact I am just much better.

University life is rich and colorful. I take an active part in various societies and deliberately ignore my inner anxiety. It was also at that time that I lost your news and never received your apology letter again. I don't think my forgiveness is important to you.

Every morning, I will stand in a chicken nest and say to my unkempt face in the mirror: Come on, you are the best. This is a self-motivation method taught by high school psychology teachers, which is actually very useful to me. You don't know that I still study very hard, and college has broadened my horizons. I began to be a variety of volunteers to help people in need. I always thought I was helping others, until one day a boy came to tell me that you were only looking for a sense of existence in these weak people, and I realized that I had gone to the other extreme. At that time, I began to dream frequently about the scene where you said I was the root number 2. Every time I woke up from my dream and sweated until dawn. That boy later became my second boyfriend. He cured me and left me.

I think I may have nothing good except luck. When I need help most, there will always be that person: the head teacher is, and so is he. What about you? Did you meet anyone who helped you later? He is very good at discovering a person's advantages. A trivial advantage is precious in his eyes and can praise you all day. He took me to various activities, watched live concerts, watched football, took photos, accompanied me to run, and read English loudly on the podium at 5 am. I gradually stopped caring about my height and inferiority, and let me regain my ability to discover the beauty of this society.

I forgave you from now on!

I never wanted to find you and tell you that I forgive you. It's just that one day when chatting in a junior high school group, a classmate told you, told me that you really didn't mean anything at that time, just joking, asked me if I knew your recent situation, and said that you didn't repeat, but followed my footsteps to this city, and then disappeared into the vast sea of people, and there was no news from you anymore.

I tried to find you in a super big city, and posting to Weibo was useless. Besides telling you that I forgive you, I think I owe you an apology.

Now I graduated from college, doing my favorite job, with a good salary, good colleagues around me, and several friends who can sleep in a bed and eat an apple. What about you? By the way, I also understand a truth: all the bad things in life are either reminding you that you are living too well now or telling you that happiness is on the way. Here you go, too. I hope it helps you, too.

Hey, that boy who called me root number 2, I forgive you. I have a good life now. What about you?

Wish: Everything is fine.

A girl named root number 2.

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