Maybe the movie is trying to tell the story of transgender people, but here, I look at the screen full of Bai, thinking, finally, there is a place to clean up my never-known monologue.
I used to have low self-esteem, and I always tried to imitate boys' clothes, words and deeds. When I was mistaken for a boy, I would not feel embarrassed, but spontaneously gave birth to a secret pride and secret joy.
When I woke up like a thunderbolt that night, I finally admitted that I was really moved by the "girlfriend" who was jokingly called me by the people around me. Two and a half years later, she confessed to her crush.
Emotional entanglement has been entangled in recent months, repeatedly forced to face, take the initiative to escape, take the initiative to face, forced to flee. Anxiety all day long. Reluctantly passively reverted to the seemingly calm friendship.
I am like a mourner, with my head down and tears in my eyes. I accidentally folded half of it. Before the grave of our story, I collected and treasured the auspicious piece of feathers about her.
When my labor pain finally eased and I was still in a state of despair, she suddenly became a lesbian from a straight daughter and became a sweet girlfriend. I was in pain and annoyance, at a loss as to what to do, curled up on the bed every night like a dried rose withered branches, on the verge of collapse...
The last time we met, I had the courage to brew for months. I packed my hair, chose clothes, and brought the meals I had prepared for the afternoon to find her. I thought it would be a surprise, but I was at a loss in her embarrassed eyes. In the back of the long wait, anticipation and disappointment alternated, how could the joy of finally being able to accompany her to eat again was beyond words, but when I was told that I had already made an appointment and saw the girl with short hair and a boy dressed in white and clean eyeliner , put down things and said a short goodbye, then hurriedly pushed open the door and rushed out.
Sitting on a stone pier not far from them, I felt like a big white steamed bun soaked in cold water.
Later, I had a dream. The enemy was approaching, we hid in the corner, and under her gaze I transformed into a strong, half-human, half-beast monster, silent, standing firmly in front of her.
But his eyes were dazed, and he forgot who he was.
Gradually, through repeated self-affirmations and denials that were as painful as knife cuts in the dark night, I finally began to accept that I was not strong, but that my body was soft and delicate. She is actually a timid girl who is not strong, and is sensitive and fragile.
I still have short hair because I do like the crispness. In the neutral dress, I calmly accepted some girl elements that I hated so much, such as the ribbon bow on the waist, and the one or two milk bottles on the nightdress, with a little playfulness in the cool.
After going around such a big circle, I realized that being handsome and cool is not the exclusive right of boys.
I said, even if you are old, you will be handsome from start to finish for the rest of your life!
I also met a lot of lovely girls of all shapes and sizes. Cold and arrogant, but will fry me a few soft little twists in the fritters pan, delicate and cautious, but quietly cute in front of me.
They held me with warm and cold hands, either annoyed or regretfully said, "Why aren't you a boy?" I smiled and hugged me back, patted her head twice, and replied to them in my heart,
"I'm very happy to be born a woman."
Maybe one day, I will also try to apply a Margaret-style red lip, and then wear a black dress, and meet a lovely girl at sea or in the field,
She smiled and walked with me to their respective bodies and their respective souls.
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