(a)

Sometimes, my daze and the turmoil in my heart are so obvious that you don't have to see my face to feel it clearly. Pen "Fun" Pavilion www.biquge.info

Every now and then, you stop and you look at me.

Sometimes, you ask me, "Is it cold?" ”

You're going to take off your gloves, and you're touching my face with your hand. You'll help me tie my scarf a little tighter, and sometimes, you'll take off your coat and drape it over me.

And whenever that happens, I resist and dodge. I insist that you put on your coat, and you always mean that you are fit and have walked hot, and you don't need a coat.

We always argue about it for a while. Sometimes I obey you, and sometimes you obey me. Regardless of the ending, a lot of sweetness is generated. It's hard to forget.

Once, you looked at me in a trance, and you were deeply touched by this trance. You feel like there's something mysterious about it that makes your heart beat a lot.

So, you gently ask, "What are you thinking?" ”

When you asked this, a tear went against my will, and it slipped down my eye socket on its own, ran down my face, and left a little salty astringency on my mouth.

You wipe away these tears from my eyes with your gloves. You ask, "Why are you crying?" And my answer was a second tear that slipped on its own.

My dear, I must have confused you. A woman's tears will always confuse the man who loves her. But I couldn't explain to you what that tear meant.

I felt at the time that no language could explain everything it covered. There is only another tear that explains the previous one.

Tears are a unique language that God has given to women in love, to save them from the captivity of subtle fluctuations that are difficult to express.

When I got to where I am today, I knew something. Actually, to explain, it's also very simple: because I love you so much, I cried to you.

Seeing my weariness and fragility is the ultimate way for me to express trust and acceptance in my long millennia journey and following.

When I began to reveal my truth, I began to accept it. My moats began to be filled, my drawbridges began to be lowered, my gates began to open, my paths began to stretch, my branches began to sprout, my flowers began to bloom, my spring began to spread to your fields, my frozen fountain began to flow to you again.

That's where those two tears came from.

They are the vanguard of my whole body and mind flocking to you.

(b)

Other times, you help me get out of that flustered state by drawing my attention in other directions.

Once, when I was in a daze, you bent down and grabbed a ball of snow from the ground, and you rolled it into a snowball, and you held it tightly in the palm of your hand, and you looked around, and you threw it at a pine branch that we were about to pass by, and its hit caused the pine branch to shake, and a lot of snow fell from it, and some cold snow foam suddenly irritated my face.

When I woke up, more snow poured down from above, fell on my woolen hat, and spilled into my neck.

I let out a soft exclamation, followed by a hurried crunch.

And you smiled and helped me pat the snow off my head and shoulders, and you used your gloves to help me blow the snow out of my neck.

I gradually stopped as you flapped on my cotton coat.

I'm standing in the snow and I'm looking at you. You're getting to feel my gaze, too. You also gradually stop.

Then, we stood in the breeze of the snow and we looked at each other. Our visions will be intertwined. At the same time, we feel that it is very difficult to separate them.

At the same time, we feel that there is no line between our lives. We enter a state of inseparability. Separation becomes something that is inconceivably impossible to do, like trying to cut a river in two with a knife.

In this way, time flows through our bodies, witnessing our unity and perfect combination.

(c)

Then, your lips move. I see the white vapor you exhale in the cold air. Your eyes look in other directions.

My nose was red from the cold. My face was also red from the cold. I also bowed my head.

I look at the tips of your boots. I saw them lift a little from the ground, and they swayed from side to side on the ground slightly, hesitantly, clearing a small patch of snow.

Then I saw them hesitantly take a small step in my direction. My heart was pounding.

Then, through the glove, I felt you grasp my hand. The power of your arm is transmitted to me. Your voice rings in my ears.

You say, "Look, there's a lot of ice under the eaves over there." Would you like to pick a little? ”

We all know that that's not what you're trying to say.

(iv)

I looked up. I say to you, "You've dropped something." ”

You say, "What? "Then you look down at the ground, you look back behind you, you reach out and feel your pocket.

Just as you were distracted, I quickly crouched down, grabbed a handful of snow from the ground, loosely pinched a snowball, and gently threw it at your neck.

I saw you reach out and block it, and then the snow dispersed, and they captivated your eyes and poured into your neck.

You scream at the sudden coldness, then you let go of my arm, you start rubbing your eyes, you unbutton the top button, and shake the snow foam down.

And I laughed and ran away from you. I said, "Let's see who gets the ice edge first!" ”

Then I rushed to the eaves in front of me as fast as I could.

I hear your boots stomping the snow behind me. You're chasing me.

I hear you say loudly behind me, "I believe a word now!" ”

I turned around in front of me, and as I continued to run, I asked you, "What's that?" ”

You say, "You can't—believe the woman's words!" ”

And I laughed and said, "That's -- you -- started first!" ”

That's our winter.

(5)

Later, I always loved wearing boots. I've always loved walking in the snow.

Sometimes, in an empty place, I would turn upside down and walk backwards.

As I walked, I looked at the footprints I had left in the past.

Now, there is no other row next to it.

It's really strange to say. When your footprints were next to mine, my tears fell on their own. And now, when there is only one line of footprints left, it can't flow out.

In any case, I love winter.

Today is Christmas. The whole world is commemorating the Heavenly Master who led them to the right path.

All teachers who guide the right path are worthy of gratitude.

As a writer, stories are my highest gratitude. (To be continued.) )