Su Nian said: "Love is a deep word. Sometimes it is like a blue, blackened night, gently enveloping you, you can choose not to care about it, but occasionally the stars in it will tell you that it is always there. Our lives begin with love and are sustained by love.

It can not be words, not words, but just a look, a concern.

The fairy tales of Swan Lake are always fresh, and it is said that the swans choose to stay with only one companion in their lives, and they swim gracefully together on the lake, inseparable and beautiful, just like the legends of a long time ago. Flapping and flapping their wings, it is they who convey love, they love so simply, and so deeply.

Love is a gentle word. It can be a message from one end of the earth to the other side of the earth, an emotion as soft as a cloud. When you are full of trauma, when you are lonely and desperate, love is the "elixir", it is the "magic medicine", it makes the blood and tears quietly dry, it makes the scars slowly fade, and it makes a panicked heart gradually calm down.

Love can be very big, just as an eagle is to the sky, and a wanderer is to his hometown; Love can be as small as a butterfly is to a flower, or a person is to another.

Love can be very strong, that is the sky that parents hold up for their children in disasters, and it is the resoluteness in the eyes of soldiers when they die for the nation; Love can also be very fragile, time, space, some love can not be crossed, it can only be buried in the dust of the years, when the wind rolls up, it is sandwiched in the yellow sand and cannot be distinguished, but it clears the tears of those who can't let go.

Love, the most afraid of the test, the most afraid of not responding, the most afraid of not being cherished, is like a flower rejected by spring, can only die in the snow, when it has not yet opened. Sourness and sorrow gently tug at the corners of fate's clothes.

Love, to give, to reciprocate.

Love is a warm word, and we feel happy when we have love by our side.

The opposite of love is harm. I don't think many people categorically compare love and hurt, two very different words. But I stubbornly believe that there must be some kind of connection between love and hurt that I can't tell.

The love between parents and children is called affection. It is said that family affection has always been a one-way transmission, and every parent will pass on their love to their children without reservation, but do not ask their children for anything in return. Now we are treasures at home, which can be described as "a collection of thousands of pets", so the flood of love has become an obstacle.

I know that every parent wants their children to go smoothly on the road of life, and they would rather be a stepping stone for us.

But they didn't notice that if a small tree had been growing in the shade of a big tree, it would never grow into a towering tree. When those children who are spoiled by their parents cannot face life independently, we will find that at this moment love is no longer love, but hurt. We can't comment on this excessive love of our parents, so we are helpless in the face of the harm caused by this love.

The love between friends is called friendship. Friends are not rare, but good friends are rare. I can't give a clear definition of "good friends", I just feel like they're an important part of our lives.

If, for some reason, one day, your friend only says nice things to you, and everything goes your way, should we be happy or upset? Although I hate to admit it, I have to say that it is not love, but a hurt. From then on, the bridge of hearts between friends is no longer connected, and the final outcome must be parting ways. This kind of hurt is often cloned with love at first, and it is not until it is revealed that we feel the pain in our hearts.

In the face of the hurt caused by this love, we are painful and sad.

Love between lovers is called love. The crowd looked for him thousands of times, and suddenly looked back, but the man was in the lamplight. In the vast sea of people, you met me, I met you, and since then I have written a fairy tale about the two of us. When he was in love, he shook the world, however, as written, the hero was told that he was terminally ill, and after struggling in pain, he decided to hide the truth from the heroine and break up with him, and then both fell into the abyss of heart-rending pain.

The audience was moved by the hero's behavior with tears in their eyes, and praised him even more, thinking that his behavior was because of love. But I don't think his actions are love, but hurt. Because he only knows that there is a kind of love called letting go, but he doesn't know that there is another kind of love called life and death. In the face of the hurt that this love has caused us, we ache and sigh.

Family, friendship, love, love, there is love, there is hurt, there seems to be a pattern in the middle. Suddenly found that the hurt is a conspirator, it comes with love, with the light of love as a cover quietly lurking around us, at a certain moment, while we are not paying attention, secretly stabbed us, leaving only the pain and we hugged tightly, maybe this is the price we have to pay for love.

I think I've finally learned the relationship between love and hurt that I couldn't explain.

It turns out that the greatest harm in the world is often in the name of love.

Please tell me, how can I love you? As the fruit ripens, the flowers wither their color one by one; As I've gotten older, you've lost your face. You have witnessed my growth, and I can only witness your aging. Every time I think of this, my heart pounds and hurts. We were unfair from the beginning, as if we were doomed to a tragic end. How can I love you, so that I can be a little comforter to you, and a little closer to fairness?

Please tell me, how can I make you satisfied? The era of seventeen and forty-seven years old collided, and the sparks that were rubbed fell on the haystacks of adolescence and menopause respectively, and they ignited at one point. I try to be nice to you and make you laugh, but I am often willful and passionate, secretly paving the way for a tragic ending. What can I do so that you don't have to worry about trivial things with your brow locked up?

Please tell me, will you be proud of me? I was the first to pass the test, and I was the one who failed the test; Sometimes I'm the one who rises to the challenge, and sometimes I'm the one who pretends to be a deserter – I'm so busy playing myself that I never go over and ask you if it's right. When you see me weak and decadent, you must also be heartbroken and secretly hateful, I know that you endure the torture of ordinary life, and I know that in the torture, you have never given up on me. How can I grow so that I don't deviate from what you expect of me?

Mom, when love has become a word, what really makes me panic is what I should do. Such a deep love is destined to bring such a deep entanglement. How can I be satisfied with the handouts of the years? I wish I could give you half of my youth, I wish I could blacken your gray hair with my hands, and I wish I could make you proud at every moment. But I can't do any of this.

I watched myself bloom like a flower, and imagined that you must have been so radiant in the past. Whose seventeen years old is different? It's just that because we're mother and daughter, we're seventeen years old and we're closer.

Your demeanor has become my habit in my eyes, your worldview affects my value judgment, and many colors in my youth come from your youthful rainbow? What a joy this is, or perhaps my youth is destined to be stained with your red dust.

Xu Zhimo said, if I haven't worried about your sorrows, I haven't thought about your worries, I don't deserve to say that I love you. It's not just for lovers, it's also for you and me. Because I love you in my own way, Mom, I would like to learn more from your experience in my youth.

Because I love you in my own way, Mom, I don't want to mention anything about "starting from small things, caring for Mom", doing small things is simple for a day, and I know that our tacit understanding doesn't need such a booster.