When I married her five years ago, we were happy. We are the kind of couple that is envied, sweet and harmonious, as if life is a perfect picture. She is the whole of my life, her smile is my biggest motivation, I thought our love would last forever.
We met in college, when she was a literary and artistic young man, and her eyes were full of curiosity and enthusiasm for the world. I, on the other hand, am a science and engineering student, obsessed with the world between computers and numbers. Our differences seemed to complement each other, her tenderness melted my cold reason, and my steadfastness and firmness gave her a sense of security.
After getting married, our lives didn't have too many twists and turns. We made a home in the city, she worked as a designer at an art agency, and I worked as a technical director at an internet company. The days passed plainly and beautifully, as if time had stood still.
But five years on, I noticed some signs that something was wrong. At first, it was just her phone ringing frequently, and she always mysteriously avoided my gaze. I tried to believe that it was just my suspicion, but my gut told me it wasn't easy.
Until one day, I accidentally flipped through her phone messages. I saw her conversation with a man named Zhang Ming. The text between them exudes an intimacy, an intimacy that I have never seen in her conversations with me.
I felt a deep sense of loss and anger and I didn't know how to deal with it all. I didn't confront her directly because I was afraid that the answer I got would completely destroy my trust in the marriage. I chose to be silent, I chose to escape, but the messages kept lingering in my mind.
As the days passed, I was stuck in a cycle of pain. I tried to fill the emptiness in my heart with my work, but found that the more I did, the more I couldn't escape the hopelessness of being betrayed. Every night, I would lie alone in bed, listening to her gentle breathing, and my heart would be filled with endless anguish.
Until one day, I couldn't stand this torture anymore. I decided to face reality, no matter what the outcome is. I found her and put the phone message in front of her, and I looked into her eyes and tried to find a glimmer of answer.
Her eyes were blank, as if she was startled by my sudden questioning. Then she fell silent, so silent that I felt a kind of suffocating pressure. I looked at her with an unspeakable wave of anger and despair.
Finally, after a long silence, she spoke. She told me that Zhang Ming was her classmate in college and her boyfriend. She said there was nothing between them, just a misunderstanding. But the uncertainty in her tone made me more sure of my guess.
I don't know if to trust her or trust my instincts. I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, and I could be pushed down at any moment. I tried to find an answer that would sustain my heart, but I found myself in a deeper state of chaos.
Our relationship has since become tense and delicate. Dialogue between us has become less and less frequent, replaced by silence and suspicion. It was as if we were two strangers, living in the same space, but unable to enter each other's hearts.
I don't think I'm a brave person, I don't know how to deal with all this. I longed to find an outlet for relief, a way for me to get out of this pain. But every time I tried to escape, I found myself unable to get out.
After five years of marriage, I thought I had found the other half of my life, and I thought I had found eternal happiness. But now, I found myself in an emotional entanglement that I couldn't extricate myself from, and I didn't know how to get out of this fog and find my own direction.
Perhaps, love is not so beautiful, perhaps, the fate between us has long come to an end. I don't know what the future holds, but I know that I have to face reality, no matter how cruel it may be. This may be the price of growth, and this may be the true portrayal of life.