How am I going to prove that I love you? I stole fish from the market for you, I drove away old memories for you, I kept warm on a snowy bridge for you, I broke my fingers madly for you. . . No, it's not enough, it's not enough to keep you, it's not enough to save you, or myself.
We thought love could save you and me, but it only gave us a momentary phantom. The extent to which we think we are happy is directly proportional to our blindness—once we are awake we discover that our once fleeting pleasures are driving us toward ruin.
I'm not talking about movies here, I'm talking about us.
Maybe I can only talk about us as I can think of.
The adults around me have told me since childhood that smoking is harmful, alcohol is harmful, drug use is harmful, gambling is harmful, but no one ever told me that love is harmful—and it is the kind of poison that will always leave its aftermath.
I miss you when I eat under the tree, I miss you when I listen to music by the fountain, I miss you when I run on the playground - even when I'm in line at the supermarket: so much so that I haven't After paying the money, I ate a pack of beef tendon without noticing.
Love gave me an unrealistic dream.
At that time, you left Beijing and went back to Wuhan to perform. I wanted to accompany you, but you told me not to be self-willed, but I still got on the bus to Beijing and went to the train station to see you off.
At that time, I imagined that I was chasing the train and singing a song for you to send you away, "The long road, the icy wind, in the dawn, yesterday's dream. Do you call, I listen..." It was like Everything can be sublimated in separation.
But I couldn't catch your train. I could only wander in Chongwenmen in the middle of the night. For the first time, I felt so helpless.
Your love cannot save me. Neither can mine.
I just cried under the dim street lights in Beijing. I seem to already know that this is our end, you live in a dream of the past, I live in a dream of you.
Dreaming and dreaming that we are sitting on the side of the road drinking under the dim street lights
You suddenly go crazy, crying and holding the bottle of wine while walking away and yelling
that everything is over! We can't fucking go back! !
I was very sad, and then I was very annoyed. I wanted to smash you with the bottle
, and you disappeared like time.
View more about The Lovers on the Bridge reviews