Love your resume(3)

(4)

My head was spinning after a long phone conversation with her, and when ALL the sweet talk was done, the emptiness and boredom of ambush awaited me.

My joy swelled for a few days and then subsided. I began to feel at a loss for what to do, and the solitude of the house encouraged my feelings of loss.

I lit a cigarette and smoked slowly, the smoke dancing in front of me in a messy dance. They are incongruous, diverging and twisting. I tapped the table with my index finger, and a faint sound came out. What TV brings to me is noise, like water falling from a high place.

My love for her stayed with me for a few years, until I had her and was dismayed to find that it was gone. Countless missing nights in my consciousness of a layer of illusory film, through the film I vaguely see some dark shadows, they sway to and fro. I had no idea what they were doing, and the unreality gave me a sense of desolation.

I picked up my glass to drink when there was a knock on the door. "Is that her?" With a shake of my hand, I accidentally poured water into my nostrils. I wiped and felt glad that no one had seen my mess.

The door clanged again. I opened the door and there she was, walking into my house, jumping about. I smiled mechanically.

"Happy?" She asked.

"Happy." I said weakly.

"I'll cook for you." She cheerfully searched for materials, only to find my house empty. She was not disappointed, still full of joy said: "I go to buy vegetables."

I gave her her purse and said, "Don't skimp on a good meal."

She came back with plenty of materials and little money. I admire her ability.

She has a pattern to wash rice to cut vegetables, and I lay lazily on the bed, leisurely reading, her busy figure reflected in my eyes.

I ticked off how long it had been since I had a home-cooked meal. The last time I ate mom's cooking seems like I was a kid.

She played it expertly, tinkling in my ears. I closed my eyes and listened comfortably. My intoxication is like enjoying beautiful music.

She brought out a dish of fruit, waiting for me to taste, my eyes lit up, all the scenery became precise, within reach.

(5)

Shopping with her again, I lost the last interest is full; His eyes were blurred, wandering absent-mindedly among rows of tall buildings. She was in high spirits, holding my hand, a smile on her face. I answered her questions carelessly. She didn't seem to notice anything strange about me. She probably thought I was clumsy in love, and I tried my best to put on a good show to hide my impatience.

After a while, she slipped out her hand, and her laughter was wiped out. She stopped, but I walked on leisurely. When I turned to look at her after a few steps, she said, "After all this walking, you never even looked at me."

As I scrambled to defend myself, she interrupted me and said, "I know you've been giving me the cold shoulder. I tried to get used to you, but it suddenly dawned on me that your love for me had vanished."

I let out a sigh of relief and said, "I'm sorry."

"You have acted twice before me, once in school, because you loved me; One was just now, and you're putting me off. You were inferior both times, but I can just as well understand what you are trying to say." Her face was white as paper, but her voice was calm.

I stood stunned, like an abandoned, bewildered puppy.

Her eyes looked at me unblinkingly, then blurred and tears welled up like wild horses.

Ashamed of myself, I bowed my head and searched for words of consolation, but those words, like those fleeing the plague, had gone far away.

Her body shook, just as it had when I met her.