The Search Has Not Arrived Yet

When Lin Yanyu stepped into this city, his body still carried scars from the past - some were on the skin, and some were buried in the bones and blood, invisible to others. Chi Youyuan's days are like a white shirt that has been ironed. He gets up in the morning and returns home at night, following the pendulum's scale inch by inch. They were supposed to be two lines that would never intersect, but fate happened to take a sideways turn that day, and a sudden encounter dragged each other into the same path. In the next few years, life was pushed, wrapped, and stumbling forward. Quarrel is like the tide that rises and falls repeatedly in the rainy season, breaking up and making up again, making up and breaking up again. Lin Yanyu began to ask himself over and over again: Are we really suitable? But the good thing Chi Youyuan handed over was so warm that he was greedy for it, like the only candle in the cold night. He couldn't help but stretch out his hands to hold it, even if his palms were burned and blistered. So he retreated again and again, bending himself into a shape that the other party could embrace, but he forgot that "downward compatibility" was always at the expense of grinding his own edges - the deeper the compatibility, the more he felt that he could not move forward, and the more he doubted in the middle of the night whether he was worthy of stability. Until the last time, Lin Yanyu was tired. It's not that he doesn't love, it's that love is filled with too much self-judgment, so heavy that he can no longer carry it. He wanted to let go of his hand and turn around and walk into the directionless wind. But Chi Youyuan stood in the home they had decorated together, puzzled - there was obviously hot porridge, warm lamps, and nights waiting for his return day after day. It was obvious that he had given Lin Yanyu all the stability he could give, so why did he still leave? They tried running in, trying to compromise, trying to smooth out each other's edges, but they could never get rid of the temperature difference in the background. How can a person who was born and raised in a harbor and a person who has always been bumpy on the sea combine "stability" and "drift" into the same pot of soup? Can a person who has been favored by fate for too long stretch out his hand and truly catch the soul that is full of cracks but never refuses to cry out in pain? Neither of them could answer, but before the last light went out, they looked at themselves in each other's eyes, like looking at a time lag that could never be bridged. Purpose: Suitability and love are not necessarily the standard answers in life, but loving yourself must be the standard answer