At 2:30 p.m., she finally withdrew from her tossing and turning bed, scratched her messy hair, walked to the window, and slowly lit a cigarette.
I fell asleep night and did not sleep for a long time.
She could only habitually get up, smoke a cigarette fiercely, and choke herself fiercely in the mist to stop the tears that were about to burst out of her eyes.
The room was dead silent, except for the ticking of the clocks on the wall, and she deliberately tapped the glass sometimes, sometimes patted the floor, and made a nervous sound, as if this would make the room less empty, to fill this large endless night of endless silence.
It is already the end of August, the calendar erected at the table is still stuck in July, and the day of the 25th is fiercely scribbled by the red pen in a circle and a circle, like a must remember anniversary, but next to it is marked with the prominent word "breakup", the brush stroke penetrates the back of the paper, and the traces of scratching the paper are scratched between the strokes.
It turned out that unconsciously suffering to today, it has been 33 days of lost love.
She did not know that it was the first time it was the first time that it was suddenly woken up late at night, and then habitually walked to the window, a person hid from the night of drinking and singing, after all, she still couldn't hide from the no-man's street, she must light a cigarette, never smoke and slowly smell the tobacco smell that was originally very disgusting, slowly choke herself, so as not to let the tears flow too violently.
Until one day, she can calmly smoke one after another slowly, Mr. Cigarette is more like a loyal partner in the middle of the night, sacrificing herself can comfort her heart.
She didn't know the first time she woke up in the morning to find that she had slept on the floor last night, and her messy hair sometimes got the soot on the floor everywhere.
She remembered that he never smoked, and had said before that the girl who didn't like to smoke the most didn't know what it was like. She felt that he was more like her brother at times, but at home she liked to work against her brother the most.
The strange thing is that she does not like boys to smoke, but she has always maintained an inexplicable liking for girls who smoke.
Maybe it was after watching "Chunjiao and Zhiming" that the impression of a purple-haired Yu Chunjiao crouching in the alley with Zhang Zhiming borrowing a fire to light a cigarette was cool. For a while, the rebellion in his bones wanted to overthrow the image of a well-behaved woman in the eyes of everyone, and he wanted to secretly buy a pack of cigarettes to try back, thinking of his disagreement, he had to give up.
And now, one pack a day, one by one, buying and putting lockers all over, no one cares about her anymore.
Anticipating the day of the breakup, calling him again and again, she just stubbornly wanted to spread out the facts and understand, and did not want to be inexplicably broken up.
One or two phone calls did not answer, and the third, finally heard the other end of the phone answer impatiently and said: "What's wrong, I'm busy, what are you going to say?" ”
She forced herself to endure the sound of choking, the words came to her mouth but they were blocked in her throat, her thumb squeezed into the middle of her index finger, and she was silent for a minute, and finally she couldn't help the tears from falling: "How long do you have to drag?" ”
They both fell into an awkward silence, and he finally opened his mouth, "I'll tell you later, I'm busy now." Hurriedly hanging up the phone, she finally cried into a tearful person.
Receiving the "good guy card" breakup WeChat in the evening, she obviously unceremoniously returned the salute and walked away, but after pulling the black, she couldn't help but cry.
How deep the intimacy and commitment that was once there was in the heart, how much collapse it would be to overturn it a little bit at this time.
I once said that this life is not you do not marry and you do not marry, pull each other into each other's lives to conceive of the future, but from the moment you say that you broke up, you must slowly withdraw and forget this person, remove all the traces that you left with me, and then force a smile to say that it is okay with all the people who care around you.
She got up and flipped the calendar over, saw the little totoro puppet next to her, and began to remember the picture he had given her at that time.
How do you know that the joy you have brought me is really a lot.
Eating delicious food together is always accommodating to what I want to eat, while shouting that you don't eat anymore, you see what you are going to be fat again, and at the same time, you still pick up the meat and put it in my bowl;
When I went to the movies together, I was afraid that the cold air was too cold and my knees were cold, and I always brought an extra thin shirt to help me cover up;
When you were fighting together, you swore every word and sentence, to give your future child a nice name, which is really remembered by me.
But how do you know that the pain you are bringing me now is really quite a lot.
The back of you turning around and leaving became the figure that appeared repeatedly in each of my nightmares.
You must not think of these moments when you make my heart hurt, how I survived second by second;
You must not have imagined that the people who once made me cry in your special pranks and I resolutely refused to let you succeed are now in countless dark nights and days, countless moments about you, and how many tears are shed as soon as you touch the scene.
Those unforgettable beauties of the past have left many scars on my heart again in every moment of recall.
Countless hesitations and concerns about his breath, unwilling to discard the traces he left behind.
Tonight, she finally picked up the ragdoll, turned around and threw it in the trash, lipstick, shoes, books, and everything about what he had sent.
I know it's hard to forget you, but it must be easier than loving you.
You are no longer my armor, you will no longer be my weakness.
She went back to the window, smoked the last cigarette left, threw away all the cigarettes in the locker, went back to the bathroom to wash her face for a long time, and decided that she must go back to bed tonight.
The lights were turned off, and the moonlight shone by the window, not knowing whether it was water or tears on my face.