Once, I took a long train trip, fortunately it was not a train, the speed was not fast, I could leisurely enjoy the scenery outside the window, I was very pleased.
There were not many people in the car, the seats around me were empty, and whenever this time I had a little expectation in my heart: it would be good to have a cute girl sitting here. Unfortunately, the harsh reality once again shows its cruelty — a stout man with a frustrated expression involuntarily destroys this beautiful expectation.
My heart was depressed, the view outside the window seemed to be much darker, and the journey of losing my illusion was like holding a cigarette but not finding a fire. Looking at the passing scenery outside the window, I couldn't help but sigh.
Just as I was brewing emotions, suddenly a strange sound came from the side, and I turned my face to look, Oh MY Karma! The stout man was crying! He was really crying, and he was flooding and out of control.
He seemed to be immersed in some kind of great grief and paid no attention to my gaze at all. Please forgive me for my rudeness, because I have not seen such a stout man so tearful in a long time, and even a few tears splashed on my thighs.
Somehow, watching him burst into tears, my depressed mood just now was inexplicably refreshed. I suddenly felt that my life was not too bad, and this trip was not too miserable. It feels like watching a tragic film, why should one's own happiness be based on the pain of others? I'm ashamed.
The man's cries grew louder and louder, and the people in the carriage looked at him curiously, and I was a little embarrassed, but he was still indifferent and burst into tears. At this time, I am glad that it is not a girl sitting next to me, otherwise I would have ruined my name in a vacuum, and the change of fate was so swift and thunderous!
What does it feel like to cry? I didn't seem to cry in a long time, and I was relieved. The seven-foot boy was crying in front of everyone's eyes, so why should this man like the wind be embarrassed!
I turned my face to look out the window and thought, "Men have tears and don't flick, but when they are not sad, what is wrong with this brother?" ”
"It shouldn't be because of the money, the money is useless when it doesn't cry!" If it's really for money, what a lot of money! Instead, I must have cried worse than he did! ”
"It must be because of love! Asking what the world's situation is, the Orthodox Religion of life and death promises, and when the heavens and the earth are long and poor, this love is endless. "I was born a poet, I am very pleased," but now in this era of trains, the sky and the earth have been going on for a long time more for the sake of smoothing and rhyming, and what love makes people cry? Hawthorn trees have long been cut down to build houses, people don't need trees, people need houses... ”
The man's cries were a little quieter, and he took a wallet out of his pocket, opened it and looked at it in a daze, silently weeping. I looked over and there was a picture of a woman, a beautiful woman with long curly hair and a smiling face. Although I have always remembered the old adage of not looking at people, I have to admit that a beautiful face at this time is far more touching than a mediocre face.
Sure enough, sad tears flow only for the Iraqis. This smiling face seems to be familiar, the twilight outside the window is getting thicker, and some faces in the darkness are gradually becoming clearer.
There used to be such a smiling face, and now I think of it, there is still a warm feeling. When she first met, she was still at an innocent and romantic age, liked the stars, liked flower skirts, liked to watch Korean dramas, liked fairy tale love, although she was not sure whether there were polar bears in Antarctica, but she would occasionally have feelings such as "I once smelled the sky in a person, but unfortunately I don't have wings".
She has an inexplicable dependence on me, perhaps because I am much older than her, pretending to be mature is very lethal to the world. If this is the wrong start, most men will choose to be wrong.
She always seemed to be full of joy, and every day she was smiling. A bracelet, a bouquet of small flowers, a word of praise, a caring, can make her happy. She likes to talk a lot, and there seems to be always an endless topic. She learned to cook and said she was going to tie up my stomach; she was going to learn makeup and said she was going to give me a long face. Her happiness also infected me, and there was a time when I thought life could really be so simple and happy.
But for a wandering person like me, some things can start, but the result is that there is no result, and I leave, leaving only one sentence: "This is for your own good." "Maybe it's more about comforting yourself." She didn't cry, she even laughed, and I was relieved.
After I saw her a few times, she was still smiling, but she was not very talkative, and there was much silence. One night, I got a text from her with a line that read, "I'm getting married." "I didn't reply, I just turned off my phone, sleepless all night, the time was displayed like a slide, and then packed and sealed."
This is very good, I think so, but life does not think so.
The last time I saw her was a large black-and-white photograph of her smiling, as always. I learned sporadically that she was not married, because the other parents opposed, the division and entanglement continued, and then committed to another person, but she did not expect to be a married person, and finally, she made the end in her own way.
That day, I didn't cry, I buried all my memories of her that day.
Unexpectedly, one day many years later, on a slow train, next to a crying man, I actually thought of her.
If you were in the carriage at the time, you would have seen a comical scene: two stout men bursting into tears at the same time in the dim light of the carriage.