After I got better, I went back to Yummy for two days of work. When I looked at the schedule, I realized that New York had unconsciously entered September. Because of the casualness of my work, Rena felt that I was very perfunctory. So she became more and more dissatisfied with me, and every time she went to work, she would always hold on to my mistakes. This time it was pasta plating, and the staff would forget to pour a circle of olive oil on it, and Rena clung to this and scolded me with the style of her boss. I heard from the people in the store that she had just divorced her husband, and Lina and I both thought it was her fault.

After work, I bought two cold beers at the convenience store to take home, wanting to have some with Brooks.

"It's been a year, I just came to New York in September last year, and I don't know the place well, but fortunately I have your care."

We clinked glasses, and he asked me, "What's next?" ”

"I want to change jobs. Yummy is a little tired and wants to find a better environment and easier work. ”

"If your parents see you working so hard alone, they should be very distressed."

"They won't be distressed." I said, "I have a younger sister who should have gone to Tsinghua University now, which is a famous university in China, and they are a family, and I am nothing." ”

"No, don't think like that, Hua, every parent loves her children."

I smiled at Brooks, but couldn't really speak.

"It's almost the Mid-Autumn Festival, do you know the Mid-Autumn Festival?"

"I don't know."

"Mid-Autumn Festival is about missing your family or friends and hoping that they can always be with you. It's a sad holiday to think about it now. ”

I stared at the bread on my plate and found that I had eaten a plate of roasted wings and two slices of whole-wheat toast made by Brooks that night. Now my appetite is getting smaller and smaller, and I've lost ten pounds in a month.

"Are you still taking the medicine?"

"Well, it'll be gone after a few more days."

"How are you feeling right now?"

"It's fine."

Brooks was not happy, "Hua, please be honest with me, you should see a psychiatrist." ”

"I'm telling the truth." I still insist.

"You didn't. What's going on with your wrist, can you answer me? ”

I was struck by him.

In fact, antidepressant drugs don't do much for me at all, they only make me forget a lot of trivial things, make me lose everything, and make me want to fall asleep. It simply can't get me out of the haze, there's no way for me to stop hurting myself.

"I... Insomnia at night, bad mood, easy to ......"

During this period of recuperation, I kept myself locked in my room. In the middle of the night, I felt a sense of fear, I didn't know what I was afraid of, and I couldn't sleep because of this fear. I like to turn up my phone to the fullest, put on my headphones and listen to my favorite songs, trying to fall asleep. But I just couldn't sleep.

Every night I have to hear the whistle flashing outside and think about a lot of things that don't make sense.

"Hua, you should go and meet with that doctor, it's normal in the United States, no one will laugh at you."

"Nope. I don't need to. ”

"Do your hands deserve this sin?"

I cried. Lying on the Brooks dining table, like a child who has done something wrong......

My hands are all drawn by me.

When I was peeling an apple, my finger was cut by a fruit knife and blood flowed out, and I felt a sense of liberation. I sucked the blood out with my mouth, but it came out again. Even if a severed finger is restored, there is no way to change the fact that it has been injured.

Every night, when I feel scared, I leave a knife mark above my wrist, and those tiny scars are covered with new scars, and new scars are covered with new scars. I can't count the scars left behind by those days and nights.

I don't care about any of that anyway.

"I'm sorry, I'll go back first." I tried to contain my emotions and walked back upstairs.

I opened the door, and then I lay on the bed and cried for a long time. This is what depression brought me, unbreakable tears and self-harm.

On the weekends, Brooks asked me to go for a run in Central Park, and he knew I loved it. I changed into a thin white breathable sports jacket that I had bought at a Uniqlo in Flushing, and took the subway with him while dusk was still coming.

"Did you come here a lot to exercise before?"

"No, it's too far away, I usually have Flushing Park near my home."

"Oh, so did you come here for me?"

I haven't been to Flushing Park since the river jump.

"Yes, I hope I can help you."

We still had to walk a little way after we got off the subway, and looking at the beautiful storefronts and modern girls, I suddenly wanted to go home. The island will always have countless songs and dances. As I said before, in Sex and the City of New York, there are too many people and too crowded, and there is no one in the vast sea of people who knows you and knows your past. Everyone is busy with their lives, thinking about whether to stay or leave. It's icy and the city won't change for anyone.

I want to go home, not to my home in Flushing, but to my home in Xiamen.

"Run? Are you ready? ”

"Can you go for a while?"

Brooks frowned, and quickly stretched again, "Okay, warm up." ”

I was tired after ten minutes of walking, and I could see that he had been trying to run on his legs, so I asked him to run to the front and wait for me.

After that, I spent time alone, walking slowly in the park, with Anne Clarke's "New York" playing in my headphones, and the first line that began with the sad "New York isn't New York without you love." (Without your love, New York would have been a dead end.) ）

A boy in a black tracksuit greeted me and interrupted me from listening to a song. He took off his headphones and leaned over to remind me that my shoelaces were off. I thanked him for the reminder and crouched down to lace up my sneakers. He looked like he was coming for a run, but I ignored him, and he continued to pester me and talk to me.

He asked me for my number, whether it was an MSN number, an email address, or a mobile phone number, but I didn't give it. He was a little frustrated, probably thinking I was too unkind or too conservative. Actually, it doesn't matter what other people think of me. After all, even Yummy's colleague Linna, who had invited me to their staff hikes or dinners several times, politely declined. I just go to work a few times a month, and if I have nothing to do, they are more satisfied with the work for a few more days. We never had any extra contact. I just want to leave a very shallow, very shallow back to the world.

The Dusk in Manhattan is purple and very charming. There's a white guy in the park playing a guitar and singing the Beatles' "Let it be": "And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree. There will be an answer， let it be. For though they may be parted， there is still a chance that they will see. There will be an answer， let it be，Let it be， let it be， let it be， let it be. There will be an answer， let it be，Let it be， let it be， let it be， let it be.”

(All sad people, living in this world, will have an answer, go with the flow.) Even if they are forced to separate, they will still have a chance to meet, and there will be an answer, let it be. Let him go, let it be; Let him go, let it be; There will be an answer, let it be. ）

"Let it be" made me feel like I had lost my soul, and I continued to walk forward in despair to find Brooks. The fallen leaves rustled under my feet, and passers-by wrapped in coats chatted with their companions about the unpleasantness of work. They were all catching the subway or on their way to an appointment. I began to resist New York a little bit.

I couldn't find Brooks, so I went out into the street and bought some bread for dinner. The shadow of the city gradually enveloped my whole body, and among the tall buildings, I walked silently with my head bowed. I remember those glamorous summers in England when we sang the Beatles' "Hey Jude" by the River Thames......

John Lennon was born in England but died in the winter of New York. What about me? Jesus said, "Enter through the narrow gate, for it leads to destruction, and wide is the gate and the way is great, and many enter in; Narrow is the gate that leads to life, and the way is small, and few find it.

Where do I come from? Where's my door?

People don't know where the power to climb over the mountain comes from, and the lines between the outlines are like shadows on buildings. The splendor of death shrouded the glass of the building. Between dreams and buildings, between you and words, is the knife. The scythe cut the last of my dignity.