Actually, I'm not a very good-tempered person.

I am very emotional and I need the other person to make me feel enough love, and if the other person's response makes me feel cold, I will be dragged into the abyss, slowly stagnate, and then everything will be cold.

I hate myself like that, and sometimes I'm glad I am. Rather than showing a false smile on my skin and flesh in the crowd and making my heart more and more empty, I would rather cut off the unequal relationship that made me sad as soon as possible and close myself in my room alone.

I used to say that I love solitude. It's a high-level word, but the experience isn't really great. I don't know if I love solitude or not, but there's no denying that being alone makes me feel extremely relaxed. At the same time, it is also the moment when I pull my soul out and whip it hard, and I always regret it immensely, doing something one day in the past that makes me feel regretful and embarrassed now. At that time, I was so vulnerable, but I could cry uncontrollably, and I didn't have to endure it.

In fact, this kind of self makes me afraid to fall in love, but I long to be in love.

It's about the first time again, and now I don't know why I agreed to him, maybe a voice told me I should give it a try. But what does that weeping represent? Maybe it's because I think I'm too bad. I am a person with low self-esteem, and I have been since I was a child. I still remember a speech in elementary school, and I saw that the following two classmates looked at me and met and smiled, I automatically and spontaneously thought that my speech was not good enough, and my expression instantly had a second of embarrassment. Really, I hate myself like this.

That night, before confirming the relationship, Mr. right and I sat by the river to blow the wind, and we sat quietly without anyone speaking. It would be easy for me to feel sad and tearful. My voice was soft, and I asked him if he wouldn't be depressed to stay with me like this.

He just sat down close and held my hand tightly.

His hands, very warm, gradually warmed my cold fingers.

He cut two words to the point, simple, without a second of hesitation.

My tears were inexplicably dripping, I knew he didn't speak sweet words and chicken soup for the soul, he looked at me very gently, but I was still afraid, afraid that it was all just a false face.

I dissected myself badly with him, and he just told me to take my time and hold me tight, as if to embed me in his arms.

Tears fell silently, and my body trembled faintly. He wiped away my tears with a very gentle movement with his soft palm, and then touched my slightly cool forehead with his soft lips as if he were cherishing. I saw the water in his eyes, and suddenly I whimpered and cried, and hugged him tightly.

At the end of the memory, the sky in the distance is like a gray mixed with blue powder, revealing a melancholy and romantic atmosphere, the wind rises, mixed with the freshness of the grass and the dampness of the river, gently caressing our tearful faces.