The most difficult thing in the world is that love is not allowed, forgetting is cruel, and longing is bone-eroding. There is no one answer that is better.
The beautiful answer is only in fairy tales, and Gulico's "Sewing the Heart of Time" is such a fairy tale.
Like the ultimate affection of a fairy tale, like a loyal lover of a fairy tale, fairy tales are fragile and the reality is cruel.
If this fairy tale can comfort people's hearts, then it is a real fairy tale. But if there is poison behind it, then it depends on who is willing to drink the wine.
I'm a graduating college student. Once I graduated, I would be married to my brother – my boyfriend – without any suspense. Everyone around us is blessing us, and everyone believes that my brother will take care of me. I believed so, and I believed that I loved my brother, until I met that artist in Greece.
Just by looking at him, I was attracted to him. His peculiar temperament is a sense of loneliness, and his misty eyes are like the hazy moonlight. I want to be close to him, get to know him, hug him.
He is the king of the moonlight, and I follow him passionately. The door of his heart opened for me, I was excited, I fell in love with him, and completely forgot about my brother.
I gave myself to him and left sadly the next day because I was going back to get married. My King said, "May we all be happy." ”
An encounter stems from the irrationality of impulse. But doesn't love need to be irrational?
I went back to my daily life, and it was as beautiful as a fairy tale bottle.
My brother built a "castle" for me, I don't need to go out to work, my brother is afraid that I will lose my purity, he wants me to be his little girl forever.
Every day, my life is idle. But there is a pain in my heart, the pain of being in love and not being able to be together. I've always kept my secrets.
My king is an artist, and his work will one day be seen in the world. So I kept wandering from museum to museum, looking for his name and works.
Finally I saw his paintings, as I had imagined, full of talent, and I was proud of him.
But I was not satisfied, I also wanted to have more contact with him, I found the gallery owner who knew him well, and hoped that he would give me his address. My boss refused, and I begged him to send me a letter again, and this time my boss agreed.
I started writing letter by letter a month, but he never wrote back to me. Year after year, I felt like I had been writing for nine years. Until I was near my home by the river and saw him taking his wife and children for a walk.
For a moment, I cried and rejoiced.
Because of various delays, I did not write again in the second half of that year. When I met the gallery owner again, he actually brought his reply.
Since then, we have been in correspondence. I was overjoyed and hid the letter in the drawer at the bottom of my cloakroom.
My brother is ten years older than me, he is responsible for earning money to support the family, and he will put all the assets that belong to me in my name. He only asks that I be born for Him and that I belong to Him completely.
I thought he wouldn't know my secrets, but in fact he was always watching the changes in me, probably just wondering. It wasn't until a few years later that the letters were discovered.
He waited for me to confess, and I could only be silent. My brother finally asked me, where is my passionate love? My brother doesn't want my calm and gentle love, but that's all I can do for him.
I know I owe him. He left home and went on a trip to Finland alone, to be quiet. I suddenly realized that I couldn't live without him, and I had an illness.
My brother came back, he said**It hurts, the heart is**, and he is very happy that I understand that my heart is**.
My brother is the king of my life, a gift from God, and I suddenly found that I love him so much, and I also have burning feelings for him.
My brother liked my heat, until he found out again that I had actually met the artist. The elder brother was disappointed and sad, he didn't understand that he existed, so he left home to explore his doubts.
In fact, I already regard the artist as my friend and confidant, and I just want to comfort a friend who has just divorced.
I didn't want to ignore my brother's feelings. I told my brother that he was the only one who could make my heart burn. But my brother said maybe I was born hot?
The elder brother eventually realizes that he does not exist, that he has been shaped by his family and the people who love him. It made my heart fluctuate, and I suddenly realized that I had thought I didn't exist.
When everyone thinks that I should be happy, I never feel that way, I just feel that every day of my life is a lifetime, repeating and repeating.
It turns out that everyone determines their own existence by the existence of others.
My brother gave me his love, protected my purity, and made me always like a little girl.
My brother eventually came back to me, but he no longer wanted hot love, he wanted calm and gentle love, because that would last.
My love was so immature that it hurt my brother. My brother guarded me for 20 years before I really saw what love is.
As my king under the moon said, he loved me, but my love was illusory, and I always loved the person around me, not him.
What is love? This is a difficult question to articulate. A momentary throbbing is a short-lived passionate love, but it can keep the protagonist chasing for more than ten years, does it still belong to passionate love?
Rather, it is the only respite that the protagonist "I" can break free from the normal track in the mechanical repetition days.
Are older brothers and protagonists real love? An older brother who has forged a fairy tale castle, a man who is true should let his woman always be the brother of a little girl, an elder brother who has both a burning sense of passion and calm and gentle emotions.
Is this a fairy tale, or a cruel metaphor?
It is indeed right to pity the person in front of you, provided that the person is right.
Wen Yun Jiuyi].
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