Marry someone who is not romantic
Many friends who know me well will ask me the same question.
You, such a romantic, how could you marry him?
How should I answer.
I've been thinking about it for a long time.
We, one studies literature, one engages in sports; one loves reading, the other loves sports; one lives in real life, one lives in his own silent world.
To be exact, I fell in love with him.
How I fell in love with him.
Fall in love with his handsome appearance, tall man, as well as his harmonious family.
More importantly, when I walked out of school, he was the first man I met who was the same age as me.
Childish me, do not understand love.
Think that love is love, want to think, really childish, love is how heavy a topic.
Waiting for his courtship, I waited for a long time.
I missed a lot of boys better than him.
Do you regret it?
In the dead of night, I asked myself.
No, there is no medicine for regret.
I once asked him, hey, you said, we are really inappropriate, how did we get to today?
He always ignores me.
Watch his TV.
Take his car.
Eat his food.
That day, the office made an electronic photo frame.
Inside, it shows the photos of everyone from birth to the present.
They looked through it.
Regret one by one.
Rain, you are so beautiful. I wronged you with him.
You should find a better one.
You don't fit.
What can I say?
I didn't understand love when I was young.
When you understand love, it is no longer the flowering season of life.
I asked him.
Hey, everyone said, I wronged myself with you.
He said, "Honey, you didn't tell them that when I was young, I certainly wasn't like this. I was handsome."
I laughed but didn't say.
I don't know which men can tolerate me to ask inexplicable questions.
Some, do a little harm to his heart.
But he always doesn't care.
He never praised me and affirmed me.
Including, my excellent work, kind-hearted.
I once said to him.
Hey, make friends, I'd like to make friends like you.
If you are looking for your husband, please refuse to visit!
I asked myself.
What do you miss him for?
I miss his shoulder, tired, lean on.
I miss his hand, in the cold wind, he will hold my small hand in his big hand.
I miss him every time he hugs and kisses before he leaves.
I miss every night when he holds me in his arms.
I miss him, he is like a child, lying on top of me, let me rub his hair.
I miss, bad weather, he picked me up.
I miss the small gifts he bought for me when I was out.
Do I love him?
I have no idea.
All I know is that love has become a habit.
Whether it is love or not, I don't know.
Once, he said inexplicably, there were not many of us.
I thought about it.
Not necessarily. We didn't walk into other people's lives.
I once said to him.
If there is an afterlife, I will never marry you.
But I must be good friends with you.
I want to find a man who loves me, treats me well, and treats me like a man of life.
He is always silent.
What was he thinking?
Mother said, silly child, can not be temper to speak, to consider the feelings of others.
You are lucky to marry him.
Well, my mother said, it's my blessing to marry you.
He watched TV, hey hey smile, that is, silly girl, you are in the blessing do not know the blessing.
Well, my mother said, would you be unhappy if I said that?
He smiled again, and I, the prime minister, could ride a boat.
In the dead of night, I am asking myself, what is love?
I see, tolerance.
Tolerance is also a part of love.
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