精华 指尖,划着你的手心

We feel for each other like a ton of bricks. We navigate through life by trusting our perceptions. But there is a risk that we can't afford to take. Underlying the complicated mess is a deep and delicate wisdom.

痴痴缠缠,他们恨不能每时每刻都在一起。
他: “If ever that day comes I will lock us in for 3 days.”
她: “3 days after the wedding?”
他: “Too little. Not enough 5 days then. 让我们化成火焰吧!”
那一天没有到来,他们分手了。
她给他写了一段没有发出的短信:
I have loved you, respected you and lived with serene dignity since our start. I may learn to let you go, but the beauty of this love, the beauty you brought to me, will everlast and take up the rest of my life. I do not believe in after death nor believe in rebirth. But when I say my final goodbye to the world I'd rather hope there's a super power somewhere that understands what true love is and arranges for us to meet in our next life if there's one-provided you wish for the same. Every time when I am about to break down or fall apart, I think of you, think of what you said to me, on many occasions-I want you to be good and be happy. Yes love, I am trying very hard and I want the same for you.
 
BEYOND HIS SILENCE, THERE IS A PAST.
BEYOND HER DREAMS, THERE IS A FEELING.
BEYOND HOPE, THERE IS A MEMORY.
BEYOND THEIR JOURNEY, THERE IS A LOVE.

他们再也没有相见,没有电话,没有短信,没有email。
一天,他们在TNT偶遇,他愣在过道里良久,之后他们一直对望,眼睛说着话,两人都憔悴得脱了模样。
时隔年许,在同一家咖啡店里,她转身,他就排在队列里,静静地看着她。她走到屋角的桌旁坐下,看他犹疑地走过来。
她不说话,轻轻拉过他的手,在他的手心,用指尖慢慢划着。
然后她起身离开,他快步跟上来。
“你说什么? ”
“我爱你。”
 
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啊,快喘不过气了。 内个没发出的短信,说的,有点多了
 
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啊,快喘不过气了。 内个没发出的短信,说的,有点多了

说得太多,所以没有发出。
谢谢你的支持 :)
 
感谢版主支持,还加精华,惭愧 :)
 
'
这就完了吗? 爱得这么难,还得“ struggle to find true love“ ,一定有隐情。 那么,再见面,就没 ”struggle“ 了吗? 应该再多交待一下 :evil:
 
We have embraced the truth and not been scared. We have admitted our faults and not died of shame. We have taken responsibility for the behaviors that trip us up. Life is, always and forever, be the real you. Good or bad, does it matter?

再见,无语。她放下车窗,他放下车窗,沉默,相望。
她的眼睛,藏在墨镜后面,她的唇,抿着。她的每段人生都焦躁忙碌,如同她此刻的心情。她把自己装裹在黑色与白色的精致里,而她的内里,却胡乱涂鸦毫无头绪。每一次的结束,于她,都是一个开始,她活在被人们娇宠的世界里。她由此迷失,由此困惑。她怀疑,其实她谁都不爱,她只爱她自己。她沉迷于哀伤的悲情,却很快会被新一轮挡不住的浪漫相遇俘虏。她顾影自怜,旁人却说you are very lucky, you have got all the good things. 她就会懒懒地,临时地清醒一秒,然后继续她的痴傻,她的幻梦。她的肤浅,她的庸俗,有时候让她自己都鄙视自己。
现在她看着他,完全说不出话来。
It's over. 他说。
 
牵手没有锣鼓喧天,放手没有哭天抢地。牵手,放手都是一种爱。

爱得很深,深得很静,静得很冷,冷得让人刻骨铭心一生一世。

写得真美,美的脱俗。
 
牵手没有锣鼓喧天,放手没有哭天抢地。牵手,放手都是一种爱。

爱得很深,深得很静,静得很冷,冷得让人刻骨铭心一生一世。

写得真美,美的脱俗。

 
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