The old lady came back from the city and told the old man that I think she was standing in a corner of the room. Everything about us is related to her. The scent of the perfume she likes in the room, the books she reads and the music she listens to are all according to her preferences, and all major events, especially major events, are decided by her.
Of course not, the old man said. She has nothing to do with it all.
The old lady said, I hope you can climb the ladder tomorrow. The old man said, of course I will go.
The old lady said, I hope you want to go. The old man said of course I wanted to go.
Speaking of which, my eyes were filled with warm liquid.
I don't know why I cry. In the dark, silently and unsuspectingly, a few tears welled up.
I like that woman, the blurred German woman in the slideshow. She is not beautiful, without delicate facial features, nor a slender waist and long legs. The rough head curtain is probably trimmed by himself, the simple sportswear sets off the strong body, and the angular face is too tough. However, her eyes are wild and uninhibited, exuding an air of freedom and originality. Like a gust of wind in the valley.
In the last photo, her loose sportswear can no longer cover her bulging belly, and her smiling profile shows a woman's unique softness and perseverance.
He loves her, this woman two years older than him. Love with the soul.
"It's incredible that you don't do the things you love anymore," the old lady said.
Perhaps, however, he would pretend to forget her. In order to pretend that everything never happened, marry and live with another beautiful, intellectual and elegant girl much younger than him, and go through 45 years of marriage together.
Perhaps only in this way can he truly remember her, remember those days of searching for purpose and meaning in the rolling hills of barren mountains, a quiet but rich heart, a tired and painful but fresh life. Love can be remembered and continued for the rest of the day.
On the occasion of the 45th wedding anniversary, the poor old lady knew it all. She is deeply in love with this cynical old man. This stubborn old man guards her life philosophy and value system with an unpleasant stubbornness, which is why she has loved him for 45 years.
When the truth emerges little by little, can everything go back to the past?
And the few tears I shed, I don't know if it was for her, him, or her.
Maybe just for love, love in time and years in love.
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