It's not "I don't love you anymore".
It's not "I never loved you".
It's not "I've fallen in love with someone else".
It's not "I want to break up".
That statement, not something that shocks or hurts you, is often the following:
"Don't do that."
You are heartbroken and shocked, tears welling up in your eyes, and you are struggling to hold back your tears. Just then, someone comforts you, saying:
"Don't do that."
Your tears immediately flowed like a burst dam, completely uncontrollable.
When he says, "I don't love you anymore," you just sob. But when he tries to comfort you, tries to tell you not to cry, when he says, "Don't do this," you immediately burst into tears.
When we cry, what we fear most is the man beside us helplessly saying, "Don't cry," or "Don't do this." These words are like someone pressing a button on our bodies that controls our tears. Once pressed, tears well up and flow until we cry uncontrollably.
So, my dear, next time I cry, please don't say "Don't do that."
Chapter Five
~Novel Paradise
Mom, don't ask any more questions.
Many people are fearless, but they are most afraid of their mothers' questioning.
A real man: not afraid of facing challenges in his career, not afraid of handling any big occasion, but afraid of being bombarded by his mother at dinner: "When are you getting married?", "Do you have a girlfriend?", "When are you bringing your girlfriend home to meet me?"
Men in their forties and fifties aren't afraid of their wives' nagging or their bosses' criticism, but what they dread most is their mothers' constant questioning: "When are you going to give me a grandson?", "Do you even want children?", "Whose decision was it not to have children?", "Whose problem is it?", "Aren't you afraid of being lonely in your old age if you don't have children?"
A man living alone isn't afraid of being mistaken for a homosexual, nor is he afraid of his girlfriend pressuring him to marry. What he fears most is his mother's frequent phone calls asking: "I made soup, shall I bring it to you?", "Did you drink the soup I brought you?", "Were you eating out again? When are you coming home for dinner?", "Have you seen a doctor if you're not feeling well? Why didn't you see a doctor? Have you taken any medicine? What? You're sick and you don't take any medicine?"
Single women aren't afraid of bad men or lecherous men, but they are afraid of being bombarded with questions from their mothers: "Do you have a boyfriend?", "Who is he?", "When are you bringing him home for a meal?", "Have you seriously considered finding a partner?"
A mother's relentless questioning always leaves us helpless. We fear nothing but answering her questions. A happy kind of questioning.
A man said that after being away from home for many years, what he missed most was his mother's constant questioning. Without his mother's questioning, he felt he had lost a lot. People who have their mothers' constant questioning are fortunate.
Do you know that sometimes it's really hard to answer your mother's probing questions?
The mother asks, "Why haven't you found a girlfriend yet?" Can the son bravely tell his mother, "Mom, I'm gay?"
The mother asked, "Why haven't you married your boyfriend yet?" Could the daughter bravely tell her mother, "He can't marry me because he's someone else's boyfriend too?"
The mother asked, "Why have I never met your boyfriend?" Could the daughter honestly say, "I can't bring him to meet you because he's someone else's husband?"
The mother asks, "Are you on vacation right now?" Can the child honestly answer, "Mom, I'm unemployed now?"
The mother asked, "Why are you the only one coming home for dinner lately? Where's your sister-in-law? Is she very busy with work?" The son calmly replied, "Mom, we've separated."
The mother asks, "You've lost a lot of weight recently, are you on a diet?" Can the child bear to tell his elderly mother, "Mom, I'm not on a diet, the doctor has confirmed that I have cancer"?
What often brings tears isn't the act of answering a question, but the moment you hear it. "Mom, how am I supposed to answer?" The chance encounter that followed...
The best things often come unexpectedly, by chance. Sometimes, after shooting a roll of film, you might not plan to shoot the last one or two frames, but to avoid wasting them, you just take a couple of quick shots. Who knew that the best results after the film is developed would be those last two shots?
When taking photos, I picked out a bunch of carefully coordinated outfits, and I also brought an extra set of clothes. Who knew that after the photos came out, the best-looking outfits weren't the ones I carefully selected, but the one I brought along.
You've painted many pictures, and seeing that you still have some paint left, you casually paint one more, and surprisingly, this one is the one you're most satisfied with.
You arranged to meet a friend at a department store. You arrived a little earlier than agreed, so you just browsed around. Who knew that in that short time you would find a pair of shoes that you had been looking for for months?
You fill in several sets of your favorite numbers on a lottery ticket. After you finish, you still have some change, so you randomly fill in another ticket, and who knows, it's the winning ticket.
Your friends keep introducing you to boyfriends, but every time, either you don't like them, or they don't like you. Tonight, your friend said she wanted to introduce you to a guy. You were about to give up, but since you had some free time, you went to check him out. Luckily you went; he's the one you've been looking for.
Never give up until the very last moment. Getting something good in the end isn't just luck; sometimes, it requires painstaking effort beforehand to create that chance encounter later. (His memory)
Sometimes, the person we love is not the one in reality, but the one in our memories.
His smile when we first met, his past affection, promises, and silly charm, and the beautiful moments we shared are all imprinted in our memories. Today's feelings are not as strong as before, but we still love and cherish the man we once knew, and we can't bear to leave.
A man said that during those stagnant days in their relationship, his girlfriend, who lived with him, would look through the love letters he had written to her every day in front of him. She read them calmly, but it was actually a silent protest. He had once been so good to her; he had given her page after page of deep affection, but today he had forgotten the promises in those letters. She deliberately looked at the letters in front of him to mourn their lost love. She loved the memories of him more.
The one he loves, isn't she the one in his memories?
In those beautiful memories, he wore a dazzling halo, and she wore a beautiful wreath. But as the years passed, they each developed more and more expectations and demands of the one they deeply loved, and more and more dissatisfaction. The halo and wreath gradually became a constraint, and in one disappointment after another, they could only return to distant memories, using those memories to sustain a love that grew increasingly pale and desolate.
Lovers in our memories are always more beautiful than those in reality. We cherish the people in our memories, even if that person has changed. One day, you will be able to let go.
The woman said, "I really want to leave him, but I can't bear to."
When two people have been together for a long time, breaking up isn't something that can be done in one go. Even after making up her mind to break up, she couldn't bear it after the separation, and within a week, they got back together. After being back together for a while, she still couldn't stand him, and this time, she was truly determined to break up. After the separation, she still couldn't bear it. A month later, they got back together again.
The woman said pessimistically, "Am I just going to live like this for the rest of my life?"
Please believe me, one day you will be willing to do it.
I can't bear to let him go because I can't bear to let go of the past. We had so many happy days together, and although things aren't as good now as they used to be, he was such a wonderful person. How can I bear to let him go?