White Moon in the Past

[Realistic emotions + youth pain + marriage growth + first person + heartbreaking] I don't know when it started that going home became a matter of courage. I have a virtuous wife, a daughter in junior high school, and a stable job. In everyone's eyes, my life was nothing to choose from. But I have a secret. A secret hidden in a rental house in an urban village. An underground relationship that lasted two years. An exit that even I couldn't explain why I continued. I try to remember how I got to this point. I thought of the girl sitting by the window in junior high school - she was not my wife at that time, she was the light I peeked through the entire classroom. I thought of the girl who borrowed the eraser in the studio - I gave her the most expensive chocolate in exchange for "thank you". I thought about the people I had let down, missed, and never really caught. It turns out that I have been repeating the same pattern: I will always be in turmoil when I can't get it, and I will no longer cherish it when I get it. And the person waiting for me in the rental house wanted more than just meeting twice a week. My wife started putting on makeup. The first gift I gave my daughter appeared in her schoolbag. How many times can I push open that rusty iron door?