When I was young, I dismissed all 'principles' and all 'old people's advice', thinking that the new generation should have their own life.
But today I especially want to tell Boureia a truth, that is, everyone has to experience the pain of love. This is not about status, identity, wealth and other added values, but about whether you care or not.
As long as you care, then she can control your emotions. Once your emotions are affected, you will feel unfair. When this unfairness occurs, you will feel that you are the victim in love. In fact, it has nothing to do with how much you invest or how far ahead you are, it’s just that you care, that’s all.
If you don't care, you will be like the piggy in the park. Just send the message. It doesn't matter when she replies or sees it.
But I will never tell Bujea this truth, not because I want to watch him suffer, but because he can truly be freed from this torture like peeling off his skin.
So I asked the female teacher to see Burea again. This was not me giving her a chance, it was a sure blow.
Mengneng People's Hospital, when Burea opened his eyes, there was no fatigue on his face. The look he showed was real. It was doing nothing when no one was around, looking dull in one direction, and the constant thoughts in his brain. The only memories come back, and I risk my own investment to disgust myself, even if there are not many memories.
When, when, when.
At this moment, there was a knock on the door. She opened the door and walked in slowly, facing the sunshine that Boureia had always been in but never cared about.
"You, you're awake."
When Boureia saw this woman again, his face changed twice. The first time was a false smile that appeared unconsciously after he thought someone had entered the ward. He didn't want anyone to see his smile. I couldn’t bear it, so I put on a happy disguise for myself;
The second time, the whole person was stunned as if someone had pressed pause. After seeing clearly who the person was, his eyes began to freeze, then there was joy, and finally turned into an extremely restrained glare.
Twice, Bourgea seemed to have experienced the whole love in person.
In fact, this is a man’s view of love. We know everything, but when we are happy, we are willing to be deceived. Even if you say that you are the most beautiful woman in the world, we can smash the magic mirror and say it to you. :"right."
But once we find that we are unwilling, I'm sorry, all your performances are too clumsy in our eyes, and sometimes we can detect loopholes without even analyzing them.
"Yeah, woke up."
Bujea probably didn't expect that he could show such a strange attitude.
She walked slowly to the hospital bed, looked at the very weak Burea on and off the operating bed, and asked, "Why is it so badly injured?"
Immediately afterwards, words piled up like a dictionary, expecting the whole description to be emotionally charged, said: "Burea, I didn't know that things would develop like this. At that time, I just wanted to save the children. They Too young to experience the trauma of war..."
"You have also seen the way they behaved after the war, so you should understand what I am talking about."
"They are fragile and can only endure with all their strength in the war. They are unwilling to endure when harm comes. Their only hope is us. How can you let me...how can I ignore it and abandon it?"
Bujea had a very strange feeling, which he could not describe, but when he told me this exchange, I understood it.
Writer Liu Zhenyun once said: "The more gorgeous the rhetoric of the article, the less room there is for imagination. Because you have written everything that should be written, what else can you leave people to imagine?"
"On the contrary, the simpler the text, the more powerful it is, so leaving blank space in writing is always the most powerful damage."
Her words were in line with the high-quality crowd, but they could no longer create any staying power for Bougea, because your performance was left on the mountain. That performance was so gorgeous that it left no trace of imagination.
now?
It's all bullshit.
This is not what Boureat said, but what I said after Boureat told me the scene at that time.
"you're right."
This is what Bujea said. He looked at the other person's face eager for an answer, and the answers he gave were all blank.
"You understand me, right?"
She repeated with a hint of joy: "I knew you would understand me."
She actually took the initiative to grab Burea's hand, her voice gradually choked up, and she said in a unique female voice: "I'm sorry..."
"I shouldn't have run away."
No one taught her how to act, but emotionally, women are always more talented than men.
She lowered her head and played with Brea's calloused hands. Her eyes were actually wet with tears. You couldn't tell whether this was the grievance of being forced to apologize by me, or whether it was a sincere desire to apologize, or both. And there is.
"Will you forgive me?"
After she finished venting her emotions, she finally raised her head and asked this question.
Look at Bougea again...
He slowly raised his hand, pinched her chin with great effort, brought it to his lips, and kissed her. This kiss broke with a light touch, as if it was just a taste.
Then, he let go of his hand and looked at the sunshine outside the window without any nostalgia.
He finally discovered its existence and finally felt where the real warmth came from.
I think that if Burea's physical condition allowed at that time, he might have done more, but this was by no means a love that treated the other person as a princess and could not bear to be blasphemed, but a release that completely treated the other person as a princess.
I believe that a man will understand these two types of princesses. The first type is for men who are willing to sacrifice and use their lives to build a palace for them; the second type is for men who are extremely pretentious in the eyes of men. If they don’t go out, it’s because they don’t have enough money. Not allowed to touch?
When Bourgea said these words to me, it was in the afternoon of the next day, when he had moved to my ward and was lying next to me.
I looked at him with special attention. There was no pain left by emotional trauma on this kid's face. There was still a sense of powerlessness that a man only has after being freed. It was like me who had just woken up in the hospital, as if I had just experienced a natural disaster. People fight.
"elder brother."
Bujea asked without even looking at me: "Do you think I will fall in love with someone else?"
I smiled: "Of course I will."
"How do you know? I haven't seen you fall in love with anyone, but I know who you fall in love with."
"piss off!"
I laughed and cursed: "You were hurt by someone, but you're not dead. How could you not fall in love with someone else?"
"It's just that from now on, your love will no longer be turbulent and heart-warming."
"What's that called?" He finally turned to look at me.
"It's called restraint, it's called contrast, it's called secrecy, it may be nice but it has nothing to do with me."
Bujea came to his senses: "Brother, what about yourself?"
I turned my head, looked at him thoughtfully, and thought to myself: "You keep pretending to be stupid with me."
Burea lowered his head instantly: "I really don't understand."
Yes, for any man in this world who has been hurt, they don’t want to understand this kind of thing. Who doesn’t want to go straight from childhood sweetheart to gray on the temples? (End of chapter)
