Actually, I have always known...

When you leave, gently open the door to an angle that just allows you to get out, and tiptoe out of the room. The moment your feet stand firm, the sunlight that shines into the room is gradually cut and corroded, just like the full moon going from waxing to waning, just in a short time. Unfortunately, you seem to be "the senses are endless when people sleep" The truth of "breathing" was forgotten. Although you successfully bluffed my ears by tiptoeing and moving slowly, you were unable to reverse the laws of nature. The changing light cast mottled shadows on the surface of my closed eyes, so I twitched the corners of my mouth slightly, quietly raised the eyelids of one eye, suppressed the sneer in my heart, and looked up at your clumsy embarrassment.

Your fat body made it a little difficult to pass through a small fan shape, but you still did a good job, rubbing against the door frame, brushing the edge of the security door, and slipped out, secretly watching your skirts swing until they were hidden by the half-open and half-closed door.

The door was carefully dragged back to its original position by that round and strong arm. The squeaky nature of the security door was tamed by you. Just at the moment when the light was compressed into a narrow gap, your dark curly hair was looming outside the door. I closed my eyes calmly and accepted the baptism of your accomplished and satisfied gaze. It penetrated the door, hovered, lingered, smacked, and stopped for a moment on my sleeping face.

It turns out that the process of closing the door is so complicated. You took out the key slowly, inserted it into the keyhole, and with a skillful twist, the lock cylinder retracted obediently. You put away the gentle light, gathered up the few strands of hair that were unfortunately caught when you probed the door just now, and finally closed the door. You only heard the sound of the lock cylinder stretching from the other side, and then the sound of you gradually disappearing downstairs.

Actually, I always knew that I was awake. In the hot summer, it is difficult to avoid the intimate contact of hands and feet with the ground when a mat is randomly thrown on the ground in the hot summer. The stagnant air in the house, the passionate collision of pots and pans nearby, and the noisy arguments of passers-by and hawkers downstairs. Your departure is obviously incompatible with the noisy surroundings, waking me up from a shallow sleep. I pretend to be in a peaceful sleep just for your contented moment.

It will always remain a secret.

Perhaps I don’t know, when I turned the door handle like you, retracted the lock cylinder, turned the lock cylinder in the opposite direction to return it to its original position, and then closed the door, whether there was a sly and smiling look hidden under the gentle snoring, teeth grinding, and sleep talking in the dormitory, paying attention to my departure.

If so, then another secret is born, planted deeply in the heart, waiting for the sunshine and rain to nourish it, waiting for the branches to flourish, and then quietly closing the door for his or her parents, friends, and lovers.