A little-known movie "Single Diary" makes me want to watch it again and again. The first time I watched it, I flipped through it at random before going to bed one day, and found that this movie was very compatible with me, especially the diary of the heroine, so I watched it late at night with the sound of XX's huru. Different from the grand works of classic love movies, which over-pursue otherworldly love or make love epic, the single diary tells a normal love story. It even breaks the love fantasy in the heart of every dreaming girl: people in love think their love is different. This story is normal to very ordinary, mixed with the love dream of a 30-year-old girl, a little romance, and then the dream is shattered and returned to reality. Yet it is still moving because love is what it is. When those gorgeous surfaces are removed, when those naked truths are placed in front of them, people inevitably have to suffer the pain of dreams being integrated into fragments. After waking up, they turn around and find that true love is precisely in the most ordinary waiting.
The story is true because, in reality, the vast majority of people are not immune to the failure of love, except for a very few epic people who meet true love in the first place. Like all successes, love has experienced setbacks before it matures. And the heroine in the film is still lucky, because her first love was just absurd and helpless, not unforgettable, and the failure she experienced was only deception, not betrayal. In addition, the right person has always been not far away, almost brushing shoulders but still getting married. Love is different from other forms of success, and does not follow the principle that as long as you pay, you will gain. The luck of this ugly woman is that for some people, love may never come. In other words, love is like I remember someone reading the words I wrote, listening to the songs I heard, and reading the books I read in places I couldn't see. Such things are hard to come by.
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