actually quite messy, for a lost, castle-like, love.
Suddenly, I want to watch this movie that has been stored in Xiaodian for a long time, maybe it is for quiet healing, or maybe I want to find a trace of solace in the love that lives elsewhere.
I was heartbroken when I saw Tatu's thin figure, the hair cut off in the barbershop, tightly clinging to the elf-like scalp,
it was like seeing that man shuttle on the train again and again, running to and fro. The powerless self;
the self who smiled innocently at me through the glass cover, looked into his eyes, and said softly, I love you.
Love has no reason and no reason.
I've learned not to ask why nor how. Feeling is actually the most important thing, right?
I really liked that night. After thinking for a long time, Tatu walked into his room, still smiling innocently, and
asked him, didn't he say he wanted to sleep with me? Turn off the lights, and the music, you won't feel my nakedness.
I love you, and there is nothing that makes me feel low or ashamed, so I am willing to give all of myself to you.
If there is anything else that makes me worthy of nostalgia, it is the little bit of warmth that feels warm when hugging,
and the safety and joy that is extremely reassuring when you are hugged to sleep.
I always knew that you would go, from the beginning, so choked that you couldn't breathe, tears were dripping down your shoulders.
Perhaps, love that lives in fantasy can only be heard as a story, and life, the real life, is an impossible net to escape.
You said, let's go through the world, but I didn't expect that the story would end before we entered the world.
Suddenly, I seem to have another definition of happiness.
In the figure of Tatu coming and going, in the firm eyes that tilted his head, in the smoke that rose when he smoked...the
mood seemed to be gradually relieved. All the time, what am I looking for?
Is it an unrealistic dream? Am I really weaving this dream into an unrealizable story?
Beauty without flaws is not true beauty; illusory tenderness is certainly not true tenderness.
If I can, I want to be a little ant, small, but happy, real, alive.
It seems to be back to that house again, two cats, one dog, you take me and paint the house.
You deliberately angered me and said that the egg fried rice you made was not good at all.
I curled up on the large sofa in the living room, holding a cigarette in my right hand, and watching you busy in the kitchen, I knew I was distracted again.
At this moment, I am really happy. Having memories is actually very happy, isn't it?
The happiest thing for Tatu is to meet someone who can also cherish her sincerity.
so. I finally admit that you do not love.
Can't write anymore. That's it for writing.
View more about Hunting and Gathering reviews
