After graduating from my senior year, I stayed in the city where I studied in college.
Working in the painting academy, I became a professional painter.
And you choose to return to your hometown city.
My mother and Aunt Xu have always been good friends. After your beauty shop expanded, you still chose to open it near my mother's clothing store. Every year when I go home for the Spring Festival, I will greet Uncle Jiang and Aunt Xu and see you on their mobile phones.
In the photos, you are always smiling, as if you have encountered many good things.
On my birthday when I was thirty, my mother called me.
We talked on the phone for a long time, and she talked about you.
You reopened your father's restaurant and invited my mother to play before the official opening. My mother said that the decoration in the restaurant is more grand and splendid than the Jiangjia Hotel she remembered decades ago. She mentioned that you are a female chef in a restaurant, and she was full of praise for your cooking skills.
I said, "She dreamed of being a chef in her dad's restaurant when she was a child."
"Is there?" It seems that my mother doesn't remember.
"Yes." I'm sure.
In the same year, the use of WeChat became popular among middle-aged people. My mother actively participates in group chats, participates in grabbing red envelopes, shares articles with me when she has nothing to do, shares emoticons, and plays all kinds of weird small programs.
I became WeChat friends with Uncle Jiang and Aunt Xu.
Naturally, I added you too.
[You have added "Chef Ginger", now you can start chatting. ] is the only content of our chat box.
After a few months, suddenly you talked to me.
Chef Jiang: [Did you break up?]
I thought for a while and sent a question mark.
You replied quickly: [That's right, I see that the photos in your circle of friends have been deleted.]
I seldom post to Moments, and I did delete a photo the day before. Thought no one would find out unless...
I asked: [You browse my circle of friends every day?]
"The other party is typing" on the other side of the screen, and it took ten minutes to type.
You sent three words: [Nothing].
I don't know what to reply, and you didn't speak again.
Conversation aborted.
The next day, and the next day, a week passed.
Two weeks later, I applied for leave with my unit and bought a plane ticket to go home.
I didn't sleep for several days, but when I arrived at my destination, I wasn't sleepy at all.
There is a kind of determination in my heart to end a major event. I know that my face looks fierce. When I asked the manager to call you out at the front desk of the hotel, his attitude was respectful, but his expression was very hesitant.
The manager clutched the phone, not knowing what to say to you.
I stand still and wait for you in the lobby.
A few years after meeting you, you walked out wearing kitchen overalls and walking with style.
You crossed your arms and frowned, with an expression like a cold female killer, stood still in front of me.
It appears that the greeting and pleasantries steps do not apply.
"What do you need from me?" With a busy face on your face, you cut straight to the point.
I have to look cool too, even if I'm asking crazy questions.
"You ask me, 'Did you break up?', why is there an exclamation point after that sentence?"
You look me up and down, and then ask back with confidence: "What's wrong with the exclamation mark?"
"Use the exclamation point to sound impatient and excited..." My voice became softer, a bit shorter than yours.
You shook your head, and said lightly, "I don't."
Or maybe not.
Your unhurried appearance made me, who was jumping around, more and more insane.
Not to mention, I flew over from another city just to ask such an inconsequential question.
I bow my head.
Not knowing what to think, I opened my mouth.
I didn't think clearly about what I was thinking, so I said it directly.
"Stop messing with me."
I said: "It was you who kept saying that you loved me before, but you were the one who regretted confessing it later. Please don't provoke me if you have nothing to do, Jiang Xiaozhen."
You bit your lip, and the expression between your brows and eyes turned gray in an instant.
Too bad, look, I screwed up again.
Obviously it wasn't you who was wrong, and you were hurt by my words again.
In fact, I shouldn't be looking for you anymore. The problems that caused us not to be together in the past are still there.
You dodged and avoided looking into my eyes.
My self-esteem is too fragile, I am afraid of losing and bowing my head, and I am afraid that if I like it more, I will be underestimated.
I am worried and worried. After confessing to me, you have never had a happy day.
"Oh." You answered me.
Twitching the corners of your mouth, you continued.
"Not at all, I still think about provoking you for so many years, and I still can't forget you for so many years, it seems so sick. It's like fantasizing that I am the heroine of an innocent soap opera. No matter how hopeless I wait, I can see the moon and the moon. , so sick."
"I once loved you, but I can still fall in love with others. It's normal to marry and have children when I get old."
I listen without saying a word.
You took a deep look at me and sighed.
"So, I understand the truth, He Yu."
"It's just, just. I have become better and better. I do what I like every day, and I know how to cherish myself. I can dress up, and I smile a lot... Make new friends, make money, and be with me. My parents are proud of me now. I feel that I am much better now than before, and sometimes I wonder if He Yu regretted not waiting for me when he saw me now."
You blushed and smiled at me.
"I can't help but want to wait for you."
You said: "I'm afraid that if you regret it, you won't be able to find me."
I raised my hand and wiped your tears with my sleeve.
I was actually the one who cried more.
I broke down and cried in the hotel lobby, I don't know how to tell you, I love you so much.
After all, you are sober than me, you pushed my hand away after crying for a long time, and regained the anger of being late.
"Why do you touch my face, touch it, you want to be nice to me?"
I nodded vigorously: "Yeah."
You sniffled, with hesitant eyes: "You don't want that fair-skinned and beautiful girlfriend in your circle of friends?"
I tried my best to express my loyalty: "What kind of girlfriend, it doesn't exist."
"Hey, you're really good at it."
Scratching your head, you seem to have weighed morality and love for half a second, and accepted your victory with a slightly burdened expression. During this time, there was a hint of joy that the protagonist defeated the strong supporting actress.
There are two embarrassing things that I am not ashamed to tell you when we are embracing each other.
First, when you talked about the heroine of the innocent soap opera, I was very guilty by what you said.
Second, the photos you see in my circle of friends are from the mini program my mother shared with me.
Test the appearance of your future partner, a small program with no technical content. After uploading a photo, it will automatically upload a picture, convert your photo into a gender and send it out. For a while, my mother was obsessed with playing this game, and everyone she saw would ask them to try it, and she would be happy for a long time looking at those nondescript photos.
The result of the test I was tested was also terrible. The 18th level of beauty skin care and ponytail, the photo looks like a little girl, and my mother can't recognize me.
But it just happened to be like this, and my mother still refused to let me delete it. She thought it was very funny to see me like that.
[Worthy of being my son's girlfriend, beautiful [proud] [rose], I like [smile].]Under my mother's positive comments, I didn't delete this circle of friends... Until some time ago, I added you.
I am waiting for you too.
Saying this, the two of us are pure love soap operas.
After careful consideration, I decided to temporarily reserve this beautiful misunderstanding for you.