The book on the pillow: What does the mark of the desolate city say?

Honey, don't be angry. In the ten years that your sister Rose lied to me that you were a liar, I didn't try to get out of your shadow. Start a new relationship.

In fact, during this period, many good people chased me. But whenever it's my turn to make a decision, I will be a deserter. Can't afford to hurt! You have become my sad symbol, not love, but hate, reminding me that men don't have a good thing.

Now that I think about it, I am also wrong, and I have failed many feelings. But if I wasn't like that then, how could I have confided in our one thousand and one nights today?

Dear, what you care about in your heart has always been my first love. There is nothing wrong with what you care about. You said that although you didn't even shake hands, you hurt your bones for seven or eight years. How did it become a mark in my heart? Yes, this is also the mark of a deserted city, but this is love.

Or is it really like this? After so many years, I feel forgotten. You said, no, never. So this matter has always been a taboo between us. As soon as we talk about it, we will have a cold war with each other for a while.

Especially when we met for the first time, I didn't want to answer, and you listened to me. You ask me, after all these years, your physics teacher who plays the piano perfectly? Lover? Do you love somebody else's piano or somebody else? I replied that Qin Dou and I are in love. Actually, I just said what you said, and you took it seriously.

What you said was an unintentional joke, and it was all true. So I really can't do anything about you.

Later, I secretly gave you a nickname: vinegar.

In fact, you are not so modest, and it does not hinder my normal communication with the opposite sex. Only taboo this matter.

Then I realized that you were right. After you left me, my only secret love was related to this matter. I just realized that the intuition of the person who really loves you is very sensitive.

After Rose's scam completely broke my heart, I suffered from a disease, love myasthenia gravis. In other words, I won't love again, I won't love again, I'm careless!

I finally live in the valley of desperate love like the little dragon girl in the ancient tomb, and my son is gone. What should I do when I go out?

If I hadn't met that strange bar singer in the border town, I think I thought I was really careless.

That spring, I went to Jiamusi on business. I flew from Hangzhou in the south of the Yangtze River to Harbin, and then transferred from Harbin to Jiamusi. That year, I was attending an Internet industry summit forum in Hangzhou.

When I was in Hangzhou, it was already a long skirt fluttering, but I still can't see the shadow of spring here. Lonely snow and lonely eagle are alone on the lonely mountain top. It's obviously winter here.

And I, a guest who never knew where I came from or where I was going, became more and more lonely. This is a desolate border town. Because of the long project here, I may have to stay here for a while.

Or because of the true loneliness and loneliness of a woman wandering in her hometown and her fear of strangeness, I am particularly serious about finding a noise. I often wander alone in this remote northeast town, but I dare not go far.

The lover of Party A of our project is an enthusiastic northeast elder sister, and she likes me very much.

She said, it's boring to see you alone in the field. Why don't I take you to the bar? Our place is also relatively backward, not as good as your big city. But relax. I think you are under a lot of pressure at work.

I'm not very lively, especially in bars. Even in a place like Beijing and Shanghai where bar culture is prevalent, I won't go. I'm afraid of noise. I think noise is too heavy for my life.

But I'm embarrassed to refuse. After all, my sister's enthusiasm is very real. So I said yes.

What's the name of this bar? Border town sea breeze? .

When we arrived, there were already many people in that bar. Everyone seems to be in high spirits. Those gentle-looking gentlemen and ladies seem to have forgotten themselves and the cold, loneliness and pressure of life in winter.

I was infected by such a truth. I sat quietly in a corner, enjoying their happiness, and suddenly thanked me for the noise I hated. My rare happiness, a kind of happiness beyond the world of mortals.

I forgot myself. In a small bar with only high emotions in a foreign country. Does it matter who I am? Besides, even if not, I never know who I am. I feel like I've been drifting all these years.