do you love me?
yes I did.
I can't remember how many movies and TV dramas this dialogue appeared in the bridges, but every time I see it, I feel a little embarrassed. Can't did become do?
I can't help but think of another question: Why is it always easy to remember hatred in getting along? I haven't done statistics, so I don't dare to say most of these things, but it's by no means uncommon. Obviously there is eight points of love in getting along with each other, but sometimes they are defeated by the two points of hatred. From the point of view of a straight man of steel, two is greater than eight, which is really incredible. Well, maybe Cupid doesn't like math, or when he is measuring love and hate, he unconsciously activates the double standard: you love me because of my good, and I hate you because of your bad? If this is the case, then the love you give to me is justified, and the things that should be taken for granted are often ignored, even if I accept your love because it gives you face, not to mention the love I give back to you, Go burn high incense! But I hate you because you offended me, and I hate you from the bottom of my heart. This kind of thing produced by my own subjective initiative is often deeply remembered. I believe that everyone who has memorized the text when they were young has experience. After such a calculation, Cupid should like economics, otherwise why make the lead arrow so big and the gold arrow so small? Lead is cheaper than gold.
Joel and Clementine loved passionately, and later hated them deeply enough to judge each other in their hearts all the time. While gnashing their teeth, both of them chose to erase all memories of each other. However, it backfired, erasing the memory, but not erasing the love that had been active in the subconscious, the teeth were comfortable, but the heartache was not good. Both of them seemed to have a hangover, and they always felt that something was missing. This feeling was so urgent that Clementine, who cared so much about hair color, didn't even care if the red hair faded and turned yellow. It wasn't until the end that the two re-acquainted with the previous recording accidentally discovered the previous recording, and peeled off each other's shame and anger underpants, only to exchange for the tearful OK. This movie is too chicken soup, but Jim Carrey and Rou Si'er tell us one thing with their excellent performances: it is not what kind of love we met, but what kind of love we wrote.
Love is like a notebook, the encounter is that I wrote a horizontal line on it, and you just made a vertical line, so a bullseye appeared like this. But then, leaving only the freshness and throbbing of the beginning? This book is too desolate. Only record the happiness in getting along? It seems too boring. Only to complain of unforgettable hatred? I'm afraid that such a self-abuse thing can't be done by normal people. (As for only letting one person write it or letting others write it, it would be better to throw it away if it is so boring.) A good novel is always full of ups and downs and suspense. Shouldn’t love be the same? No matter love or hate, bitterness or sweetness, as long as this book is written about me and you, when you turn it over when your hair is gray, and look at the crooked handwriting of the two, you will surely purse your sunken lips and smile contentedly. Bar. Of course, whether this book is worth writing, there is a premise, that is, whether we are willing to listen quietly, quarrel happily, and then say the sentence OK in tears.
In the past, I always thought that love was the sentence I would like at the wedding, but now it has gradually changed. Maybe love needs to say a word to the other party when you are tired, it doesn't matter.
A song suddenly came to my mind: Oh, unfortunately, love is not a few tears or a few love letters. This may be a bit cruel. People who wait for others to give happiness often don't live very happy. . . Damn, why am I still holding back so many words when I remember this song? How well the lyrics are written.
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