What do you do when a woman cries and begs you for a reason that is not too much? And when a woman who loves you and you love her cries and says she wants to be with you, what do you do?
?
So at that time, he hugged Ling in emotion and said with a trembling voice: "I promise you, we will live a good life."
Just like that, Ling and him were together again, happily together. They went shopping for clothes together, listened to concerts together, and went shopping together. When Ling was tired from studying, he helped her massage, and Ling would cook the dishes he liked.
Give him the recipe to make.
A lot of happiness, the happiness of speeding, the happiness of not having a red light along the way, the happiness of a spark that ignites a prairie fire, the happiness that cannot be recovered, from one end of the heart to the other, from one end of the body to the other. Ling felt real happiness, felt
I was alive every second, feeling her body temperature rising, feeling a fire burning in my abdomen, and a cup of sweet coffee slowly simmering.
The two people live a peaceful and warm life.
Until another tiny detail appeared among them.
After Jing said this, she took a rest and her eyes became very confused and melancholy - I have rarely seen this happy girl with such a sad expression. It was hollow, melancholy with a hint of helplessness. Why?
Why would she look so sad at this time? She left me with another puzzle.
"Why does his promise seem so pale? Does responsibility really mean nothing to him?" I know what Jing is going to say next, but I don't understand it.
"What is a promise? As a person, can you really make an eternal promise to the other person? Promises are inherently vulnerable in the face of time! Maybe everyone is sincere at the moment they say their promise.
And sincere, but in the face of this changing world, how much of the sincerity and truth at that moment can be retained in the next moment? I believe he was sincere when he agreed to be with Ling, but I also believe he felt that life was beginning.
I want to look for exciting impulses when I am dull." Jing said the above words very calmly, which surprised me. At that moment, she was like a simple and elegant woman, like a monk who has seen through things.
I was confused. At this moment, I even confused the relationship between the story she told and the reality I was in now. True and false, false and false, form and shadow, reality and mask, in the interlacing of light and shadow and stillness.
The tone with a hint of hypnosis made me feel dizzy.
Sometimes he would answer some calls behind her back. When he answered the phone, he seemed very mysterious and vague: "Well... I know... That's it... I'll call you again... Okay..."
Some ambiguous words were intertwined and struck Ling's sensitive nerves.
At noon on the weekend, she happily went to his house with the groceries she bought. As soon as she entered the living room, she heard him talking on the phone: "Yes... that's not true... you know what I mean..."
He saw her and then hung up the phone. He hugged her happily, and she went to the kitchen to cook for him as if nothing had happened. They ate happily together.
In the afternoon he said that he had something to do and he had to go out. She said obediently: "I'm reading at home and waiting for you."
He smiled, and then wanted to kiss her. She kissed her cheek, but he kissed her lips anyway.
He left and the door closed quietly, elegantly like his usual style.
She cried, slowly wiping away her tears, as strong as her original choice.
She picked up the phone and pressed the "redial" button. A woman's voice came from the other end of the phone, very soft and nice: "Hello, hello, hello??"
She didn't speak, just stayed there quietly, and only put down the phone after the other party hung up.
Half an hour later, she called him on her pager, but he didn't reply.
She kept hitting.
Another half an hour later, he called back: "Hello?" His voice was calm, with no hint of impatience.
"My family just asked me to go back. They said they had something to do tonight. I have to leave..."
"Oh, then go ahead and I'll call you tonight."
"I miss you, can you come back now?"
"No, I'm still busy here. It may take a while to finish."
She hung up the phone and cried, crying wildly.
Then she left, quietly, leaving the key he gave her on the table.
After leaving his house, she stood blankly on the road, not knowing where to go: her original plan had gone out of shape, and she lacked enough flexibility to formulate a new plan. She just kept walking like this, without any purpose.
, she just wanted to see people, cars, and streets. She couldn't let herself feel lonely, that would make her feel pitiful. She had to breathe air and let the inhaled air create resistance like wind in her chest.
, slow down the heartbeat speed, so that the blood does not flow so fast. She kept walking until her body was as tired as her spirit.
Then she went home, ready to accept the nagging and blaming from her parents. For parents in our area, our children will always be like children who have not grown up. Our efforts and our growth will not be ignored by them.
Accept it. They even believe in the saying that good people come out of yellow vitex seeds. Beating, scolding and nagging are the methods of education they are accustomed to.
Ling's parents were like this too. Ling had a very tiring life.
All the things she had worked hard for were destroyed that day. When she returned home, Numbly waited for another scolding from her parents. Then she ate, washed dishes, and did housework. After putting everything in order, Ling stayed in her room obediently.
Here, waiting for his call.
He promised to call in the evening.
10 o'clock, 11 o'clock, 12 o'clock, a new day has arrived. 12:01, 12:02, 12:15, 12:30...
Ling seemed to be demented as she watched her compact pager sit quietly on the table, flashing and flashing the current time, mechanically and calmly. Just like her original life, it was as precise as a clock but lacked the
Passion. And he was like the person who dialed the pager, disrupting her life as a clock and making her come alive. She was beating, screaming, and venting her usual depression.
But he won't always dial her pager. One day she will return to that peaceful and precise life. But she doesn't want to go back.
Ling wanted to cry loudly, but her parents would know how sad and sad she was, so she didn't want to do this. She just watched the numbers on her pager beating quietly, letting the two lines of tears quietly write down her sorrow.
Then she picked up a knife and slashed her hand...
Everything in the world is false, but pain is the most real. The pain of skin, the pain of hunger, the pain of hunger and thirst... the pain is so painful that we cannot eliminate it and cannot forget it. We can only choose to endure it silently and grow in the pain again and again. In fact, we always underestimate pain, we want to gain a transcendence from pain, and we always fantasize about the sweetness and satisfaction that comes after suffering. However, pain always comes one after another, beating us like a bitch again and again. The innocence and dreams were shattered, leaving fragments all over the ground. The ground was called fragments of hope - Ronin Pier.
Although I knew that nothing happened to Ling - otherwise, I wouldn't have met her. But when Jing told me in a slightly hollow tone that Ling used a knife to scratch her wrist, I didn't care. Both his heart and body trembled violently.
No, my description is not accurate enough. It's not just a tremor, it should be a spasm, a twitch, a kind of helpless spasm and twitch in the face of pain when dying. I don't know why it is like this, just like Ling's The knife cut not her wrist, but my heart. My hands were tightly squeezed into a ball, and even the tablecloth was deformed.
There is a saying called empathy, and I think that was the mood I felt at that time. My understanding of Ling was enriched through Jing's descriptions again and again, and I seemed to have brought myself into that time and into that story. .I looked at Ling’s smile with happiness and a little jealousy. I was painful and helpless when I heard Ling crying again and again. I was angry and helpless as he hurt Ling again and again!
The bell in the story and me outside the story actually have a connection that transcends time and space. However, this connection is painful, so painful that it makes people crazy. This connection is also sad, so sad that it makes people melancholy.
And at that time, Jing looked at me quietly just like her name. Her eyes had never been so deep, as if she wanted to see through my whole body. She looked at me quietly.
I noticed her expression and realized my gaffe. I smiled apologetically at Jing, then smoothed the tablecloth, trying to stop myself from being so excited.
"Is Ling okay?" I wanted to cover up my gaffe and fill the gap in this period of time, so I asked an idiotic question.
"If something happens to Ling, can you still meet her?" Jing smiled, looking at me with a trace of mockery in her eyes.
"But..." Although I was embarrassed by Jing's answer, I didn't pay too much attention. I wanted to know what happened next. Jing waved her hand, interrupted me, and continued:
Ling quietly looked at the incision on her wrist. Blood was slowly but firmly flowing out. It must be painful, right? She thought in her heart, but her body was numb. The physical pain was nothing compared to the heartache. What.
I have loved so sincerely, but why why why why the ending is like this! Is the story of the prince and Cinderella really just a fairy tale? Or maybe I am just that Cinderella...
The blood was taking away the heat from her body, and Ling felt cold. She curled up into a ball, letting the hot blood dye her white clothes red.
...It turns out that this is my wedding dress...hehe...hehe...
Gradually, Ling's body lost strength, and she fell down slowly, leaning on the bed. Her eyes became blurred, and she didn't know if it was tears or sweat that blocked her sight.
...It's so annoying that it doesn't even let me take a good look at this world for the last time...
She stubbornly wanted to wipe the water drops from her eyes, but found that she could no longer lift her hands.
...So be it, I have never seen the world clearly. I thought I could see clearly, but I have always been seeing flowers in the fog. I used the most despicable way to see this clearly.
It’s time for the world to go with dignity now. Haha, I’m so tired...
…
Jing stopped talking at this point. It wasn't because she wanted to offend me on purpose, but because she had already burst into tears. She cried like a child, from sobbing softly at the beginning to wailing loudly at the end.
For a moment, her emotions were completely out of control.
A few people sitting next to me looked at us with a very naive look, but I glared back with a vicious look. I didn't think about Jing's abnormal behavior, but just waited helplessly for Jing to respond to her emotions.
, because I really didn’t know how to comfort her. Because at that moment, my heart was even more painful than before, and it was a helpless pain.
I knew very well what Ling needed at that time, and I was sure that I could bring her what she wanted. However, without me in her past, I could only stand in vain on this side of the shore, anxious. I was like a
Like people watching movies, watching the killer gradually approaching the protagonist, I wanted to scream, I wanted to shout, I wanted to protect her. But when I stretched out my hand, what I touched was a cold screen.
I want to comfort her, I want to hold her hand and tell her she will be fine tomorrow, I want to see her smile.
But, what position should I take to tell her this now? A friend? Just a friend? A lover? Will it be a lover?
I'm confused, I'm confused. I'm sad, I'm in pain, I'm dissatisfied!
This is so unfair!
Jing continued to cry, and I suddenly felt very sad.
I knew that if I didn't persuade her, I would cry too. Why would I cry? I don't know, maybe it's everything.
Mixed flavors, this word is very suitable to be used here.
So I handed Jing a tissue and asked her to tidy herself up. I just sat there without smoking or drinking water. I didn't dare to do too many unnecessary actions. I just tried my best to keep myself quiet.
If not, I will lose control.
She stopped crying and whispered to me: "I'm going to the bathroom."
I blinked to show that I understood.
After 10 minutes, Jing came out and had tidied herself up. She returned to her glamorous and carefree look, and she responded to the 38 shots thrown at her by others with a provocative look.
And I have already paid for it, and I am just waiting for her to come out: it is no longer suitable to continue talking here.
We walked out of the store and walked in silence. Both of us needed more time to recover and adjust, both emotionally and physically.
Then we stopped, maybe in a stadium, maybe by a flower bed, maybe by a small lake, I can't remember. The only thing I remember at that time was my helpless mood and tranquility. Next, I said