In these moments, happy or If they are unhappy, they will suddenly become weak, and small unrealistic dreams sprouted in their hearts: Oh, I wish there was a person who is tall and handsome, elegant and polite, and who loves me and loves me like a jewel.
Knowingly unrealistic, because such people have been extinct for more than a century.
But when a crack appeared in time, a duke from a hundred years ago appeared on Manhattan Island, the center of modern society. He gets up when the lady leaves the table; he writes a heartfelt apology in feathers; he takes you to bed, covers you, and turns away; he pulls up a chair for you and brings you breakfast he cooks ; The worst part is when you yell and chase the bad guy who stole your file bag, he comes on horseback!
Hugh is no longer Wolverine, no longer a heartbreaker who has lost a lover, but his role is still unreal - he is the last nobleman, the fantasy of all women.
For this unreal man, Meg gave up the career she had worked so hard for for many years, the position of vice president she finally got, her relatives and friends, the Manhattan she never left and the life she was used to.
Oh, or some people will think this is a happy ending, but I really doubt that she can adapt to the life of a hundred years ago? Remember a woman in S&C said: I can only live in Manhattan, Brooklyn? NEVER! Even an ordinary woman like me thinks it's a pleasure to live in the countryside occasionally, but when it comes to long-term living - I'm sorry, I'm an urban animal, I'm used to everything she has, including the hustle and bustle, but also air pollution and traffic jams.
So I thought that Meg, the Manhattan girl, was going to miss the Starbucks Internet Pocket PC and everything she knew.
Recalling that when Sun Yuchuan turned around, the unfamiliar old lady told Cheng Zhen that sacrificial love is not called love.
But if love can be obtained without sacrificing it, how much good fortune this person has to cultivate.
Sacrifice too much, love is not so happy; and love, how can it be unhappy.
I struggled with a fictional story, presumably because I saw myself in it.
The buddy said, why do you act like a man.
Oh, because we couldn't find the man we wanted, we had to make ourselves into him. - Many years ago, the teacher said so.
So sad, yet so realistic.
It's just that women are still emotional animals in the end. Even if we have become reinforced and iron bones, we will still choose to jump into the time tunnel at the most critical moment.
Just because, "Yes, I love him."
Everything is good in this world, but everyone loves themselves too much, so they seem too cold.
If I had a choice, or I would choose to go to the Victorian Lake District to be a well-off lady in a well-off family - desire is shameful, but life is simple because of it. We only need to be able to play the piano, embroider and dance the checkered dance, and then we can enjoy the polite compliments of men with peace of mind.
——No desire, no desire, is that what it means?
But if I had a choice, I don't know if I would have the courage, like Meg, to let go of this terrible but familiar world of ours.
How much you have to love you in order to ignore everything.
Love is a faith that only the most devout believers can find.
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