My love affair with Dahuang probably started with that bright yellow jacket that always made me spot him in the crowd.
This man confessed his love to me at the station with two small daisies picked from the mountains. The petals were wilted, and he plausibly said, "This color is rare." He studies geography and is either climbing mountains or on his way to climb mountains. My daily love life has therefore become a big "signal waiting game" - I send a message and it may take three days to receive a reply. He decided to go to bed at 10:30 in the evening because "I have to go into the mountains at 5 o'clock tomorrow."
We all quarreled differently. I was typing a bunch of words here, and he would send me back a line of GPS coordinates and altitude data every half day, as rigorously as if he were writing a field report. The most annoying thing is that he would analyze it with me seriously: "I really don't have a signal here, I didn't mean not to reply."
But he is also the person who will silently remember the snacks I mentioned casually, travel half the city to buy them, and carefully pack them in thermal bags; at the other end of the video, he will turn the camera to the brilliant stars outside their camp and whisper, "Look, the stars here are very bright."
These are the two or three things about falling in love with Dahuang - there are no sweet words anytime and anywhere, only the mountains he has climbed, the pictures he has drawn, and the sincerity that is as heavy as a rock and expressed in the most clumsy way. If you are also curious about what kind of love a person who is always dealing with soil and stones can have, you might as well sit down and listen to me slowly. It is also through rhubarb that I tell you my story.
Purpose: Find yourself and become a better self