Yesterday, I told C that I must cry a few days ago before going to bed before I can really sleep peacefully. At night, especially before going to bed, the mood is like this, and I can't think of a reason for all the troubles. I've been watching Blue Valentine for the past few days, it's really hard to beat. At first I thought Cindy didn't like it enough or never liked Dean. But after reading it, I felt that Cindy also had her own grief. A love goes from a positive number in a world to a negative number that you can't wait to get rid of. At the same time, I really feel bad for Dean. Sometimes love really doesn't just need to be thrown out. Dean just expressed too much force every time, and didn't even care about the other party's ability to bear. And his sensitivity. Even though everything he does is out of the starting point of loving Cindy, his behavior has made Cindy unable to care about the most source of fiery love. Why do playboys win women's hearts with just words and playful actions without showing affection? And an infatuated man like Dean who is so affectionate ends up getting nothing in the end. Love is so cruel sometimes. Dean, you need to hold back. When I saw him throwing the ring, I suddenly sighed: Love is something you throw it away and then find it back with double effort. Love is sometimes an instinct. It's like when you hear a song and dance with it unconsciously, just like when you see a picture and remember your hometown unconsciously. Even if you know it's a road with no return, you will take it with determination.
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