Until now, I still don't understand how I "lent" myself to him vaguely. It seems that since that "loan incident", I have unwittingly stepped into his "love trap". That was when I was a sophomore, and he was a year ahead of me. At that time, he was the head of the sports department of the school's student union, humorous, calm and sophisticated, and quite popular.

When she first met him, she once sat in front of the computer reading the manuscript, rubbed her eyes carelessly and said, "It hurts!" I didn't expect him to have a heart. When I came next time, I brought a pair of glasses. He took the glasses out of the glasses case and carefully put them on her. She asked casually, "How much is it?" He smiled coldly: "It's worthless."　

My topic today has nothing to do with this. It is about the insipidity and aging of love. I am talking about a kind of white-haired love, which has no sense of beauty, no suspense, and conflict, and has been intentionally or unintentionally omitted by literati who are afraid of chaos in the world. But I'm sure such a kind of love can be seen everywhere and is close to what people call eternity.

One winter night 40 years ago, in the family room of a coal mine in the south of West Germany at that time, Brecht, a young miner, and his wife were sitting under the lamp. After a long silence, Brecht said, "Everything will be fine. I will go down tomorrow!" His wife gave him a brilliant smile and said, "Good luck!"　　

The girl has a Zhang Xiuqing face and an understanding heart, and looks so lovely. However, God is unfair to her. When she was still in cardamom, her eyes went blind because of a serious illness. Later, she joined the disabled orchestra in the city. She played the violin very well, her arms were light and comfortable, and the intoxicating melody flowed out.　　

Ting's boyfriend gave her a bunch of roses. The petals are very fragrant and attached to the green leaves. They are very beautiful. Ting sniffed, her brow showing happiness.　　 Petals withered in a few days, so Ting put them away and put them in a small box to smell them every day.　

At noon, she asked her neighbor for help and carried the old shepherd, her husband, to the bottom of the old Elaeagnus angustifolia tree.　　 It's a rainy autumn, and it keeps raining in Mao Mao all morning. The dark weather sets off the sad mood, and the sky is sad and the heart is dark. Both the sky and people are affected by the dying old shepherd.　

The boy grazed at the edge of my cotton field. His sheep are white and fat, like moving white clouds. The appearance of young people laughing is like cotton bursting in the field, full and warm.　　

Sandra day o'connor, a former justice of the Supreme Court of the United States. In 1990, Sandra's husband John was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease, which is a degenerative disease of the central nervous system characterized by cognitive impairment and memory impairment. In order to take care of her husband, Sandra often has to take him to the office. In the conflict between career and family, Sandra felt very tired, but she felt very happy to be with her beloved.　

There was a young man named Cruise in London. He fell in love with the beautiful girl Anna. He couldn't send this to his beloved girl like a rich man, so he adopted a unique courtship way: he waited at the intersection where Anna passed every day, and as soon as Anna appeared, he whistled behind her.