I yearn for beautiful love, but I experience other people's women.
From a young age, he was introverted and accompanied by books, and did not know what it was, but from the age of fifteen, he also missed a person deeply.
After graduating from college at the age of 25, I had my first love. She works with me, often talks to me about work when she goes to work, and often chats on WeChat after work, coming and going, feeling good about each other, and naturally, coming together.
On her birthday, I prepared flowers and cakes for her, and I kissed and embraced her passionately. For the first time in my life, I was trembling with nervousness, and the flower path had never entered. I'm grateful she didn't laugh at me.
The marrow knows the taste, and I can't wait to die all day. I know she's not the first time, but I like her a lot. Loved her messing with me, loved her smiling at me, loved her holding my arm and coddling.
Later, once she logged on to QQ on my mobile phone and did not quit. I flipped through her QQ space and knew she was married.
She was small and lively, and I couldn't imagine that she was already a mother of two children. I had fantasized that she was a virgin, but even though she wasn't, I was devastated, but I silently accepted it. But she was married, and we couldn't be together for the rest of our lives, and I couldn't put into words the pain of that time.
Break up, reconcile, reconcile, divide well. Entanglement with her. Emotionally bonded, physically entangled. Love is very serious, love is also painful. I live with her and take care of her food and drink. She was like a child and looked carefree all day. I was angry that she didn't care, and I hated my own indisputable anger.
Later, she left and returned to her hometown, never to see each other again. Before leaving, she told me that she was divorced, but she couldn't marry me either.
Being alone is lonely. Accustomed to the life of two people, when only oneself is left, living is a kind of suffering.
During the day I fill the void with busyness, and at night I play games with cigarettes and torture my mind and body. Even though a year has passed, I still think of her from time to time, and the bits and pieces seem to have melted into my bones.
At this time, a person who had obviously forgotten but had often dreamed of it came into my life. Reuniting with her is now fifteen years later.
In elementary school, I wanted to play with her; in junior high school, I saw her blushing and afraid to come forward and say a word; in high school, when I was exposed to sex, she was the object of my sexual desire; in college, she was the goddess that I couldn't think of, loved and couldn't.
She is also married. But she told me she was making a divorce. At this moment, I felt as if I was in love again. I've forgotten my first woman, and it's already her that comes to mind.
Empathy is often in a flash. I frantically expressed my thoughts about her for fifteen years, and she told me that she had feelings for me at the beginning. We were reunited through WeChat chat, and we exchanged heartfelt words through chat.
I longed to meet her, but she refused. She still has a family, and she can't accept cheating.
I can understand, and I have a lot of respect for, such women, are rare now. We met and waited for each other.
Forgetting a person is suffering, but waiting for a person is also an ordeal. The longer you talk, the stronger the desire in your heart. I want to take over her time, I want to get her body, I want to melt into her heart.
Even though she comforted me, even though she showed me pictures, even though she told me she wouldn't let me lose, I still suffered.
Because I know it's too hard to get the heart of a married woman. Even if you are kind to her, she will one day suddenly disappear in front of your eyes.
At this moment, a woman I have slept with, a woman I want to sleep with, seems to have come together.