Look at him quietly through the gap of the traffic flow. "The man who really loves you will hold your hand when crossing the road". Looking at his face from a distance, it looks like the smile of last night's lingering love, but now it seems so far away and vague. Now I love him more in bed. What about him?
I love grapes, so I call them grapes. I will throw a beautiful arc and let the grapes fall into my mouth 100% accurately, and then my eyes will laugh like grapes.
No one knows anyone, so gold is particularly reckless, but I fell in love with this cursed guy. He is such a bully. He laughed like a bad guy, but he wasn't, so I always called him "bastard". He never knew, then knew, and then hit a stranger. A reincarnation, but walked very tired.
I thought I was very free and easy. I thought I could control it. I thought I could wave my hand without taking away a cloud. It's just that I forgot that I was emotional.
Perhaps the most beautiful time of love is the budding state. In a game of chasing, I laugh, laugh and play tricks in pride. I like to see his angry face and gnash his teeth after being teased and say, "Bite you! Don't be so naughty! When I get tired of you, I will treat you like shit!" I will laugh and cry, but I believe that one day will come.
To love someone is to have no secret in front of her. I always think so, so I put him in my heart from the day he told me his private Q password. But love is a game for two people, and three people are a hurt. Just as he cares about me, I also care about his past.
If a woman is willing to give birth to a child for you, it means giving her whole life to this man. So I can't, can't hurt a woman who is willing to give birth to BABY.
"Give me a BABY!" he looked at me and said. I know that the brave woman is not me. This is an ambiguous season, even the temperature difference is so lingering, whether love is also true
With a three hole facial mask towel on his face, he felt like a ghost. He woke up in the morning, went online, and made a cup of strong coffee. He simply lost sleep. Some people say that the life of love is three months. They put their fingers on it and calculate that their love with him is exactly three months, and they are dying.
He dodged left and flashed right across the road flexibly. At the moment of looking back, there was a flood of traffic. He was there, and I was here.
Look at him quietly through the gap of the traffic flow, 'The man who really loves you will hold your hand when crossing the road', and look at his face from a distance, which is like the smile of love last night, but now it seems so far away and vague. Now I love him more in bed. What about him
Unexpectedly, my heart hurts. I came to this strange place because of him. I thought that my company would bring golden happiness. The distance of 600 miles is neither far nor near, but now I find that when I exaggerate the distance of 600 miles, we are not closer because of this, and our hearts seem to be more distant.
I won't drink. I'm a guy who once drank red wine and would fall to the ground in the wind. I'm heart-broken, deeper and more confused. I won't let him know or see my sadness and sadness. Love is not forced or demanded. Tomorrow, I will leave.
"You are drunk." He held it and kissed it gently until it was soft and confused. They were crazy to conquer each other and deeply yearned for it. Let this tacit feeling be engraved into the softest part of his heart. He loved it so much that he did not want it, and loved it so much that he did not give up blame: "Grape, I love you." He said suddenly. I have been laughing, drunk and dimly smiling. He seldom said love. I think maybe he was drunk too. What conquers a man's heart has nothing to do with his body.
In the early morning, in his sleep, I left.
The city was in chaos and damp in the early morning. The rainstorm overnight made the city's traffic semi paralyzed. It took me a long time to get a taxi. I was happily carried around the world by my sister. I wanted to cry. It's really like being bullied by dogs. I have no goal, and I can't find the signpost. I began to fear the unknown around me, and I was too weak to move forward.
The car was still flooded, paid the fare, walked in the rain, repeatedly warned and reviewed. I think I have a good memory, recording every bit of my life. So I think I can't forget all this until the day I can forget it.
There are water, cars and people all around. In the noisy crowd, I feel more and more lonely and at a loss. I feel like I have been thrown away. The unbridled speed of the speeding car has moistened me. The muddy water all over me and the tears all over my face are sitting on the roadside and crying bitterly. I will not call him. From the moment I left home, I decided to give up. I would rather lose myself than find him again. I feel that since he can rest assured that I will leave alone, there is no need to call him again. I started to get used to not having you before I had it. If, of course, only if, I had never had you in my world, where would my heart be now
Finally, I returned home. It was very dark. The guy who came to meet me was my boyfriend who I thought was stiff. He played chess with me and allowed me to repent and be lazy. Seeing me covered in mud, his eyes turned red with heartache. He held my hand in his palm and kept beating until his cold hand became hot. shed floods down one's cheeks. I have ignored the existence of this person several times, like the mud on the bottom of my feet, and will not feel a little heartache when I throw it away. I have publicized the willfulness and domineering in front of him many times, but this person is looking for me crazily in the days when I disappeared, and hugged me tightly on the platform with the cold wind rising: "Don't run around, please." I cried more bitterly because I saw him cry.
When I got home, I turned on the machine, threw myself into the bathtub, immersed in the water, and couldn't breathe. When the phone rings, it's gold. Looking at the number that had been chromized into memory, I have been watching it calling, calling, and tears began to spread bit by bit.! "I'm worried about you. I know you're angry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm wrong." He came to the message and said. "You're not wrong. It's my fault. I'm wrong." Then turn off the computer and go to bed. Just, I'm crying, but I don't cry. Because I just caught a cold, so I cried. I didn't cry, I just cried. and that. Love has flown far away, and the seasons have changed. Say goodbye to the face you once loved.
Love is actually a matter of two people, I understand. Love is in the heart, not in the bed. Now is a society far away from love and close to ambiguity. There is still a way for men and women to go between love and non-love, even for a long time, that is ambiguity. It's just that you are not my guidepost, nor will you become my goal. In the world without me, you will live very well, and I think so will I.