I'm lovelorn.
At two o'clock in the afternoon, I started crying uncontrollably.
There are actually many such moments in life. You understand that what is gone cannot be recalled, what has become a fact cannot be changed, and what is determined to go cannot be retained. But that doesn't mean you won't be sad.
How do you say that? I understand the truth, but I still can't live this life well.
To avoid feeling sorry for myself indefinitely, I decided to do something.
"Maybe you can write a novel." My mother told me.
If writing really makes us forget…
I don't know.
But I want to give it a try.
After all, it can't get any worse, can it?
December 8, 2021. The date of his PhD defense.
Before that, I'm going to spend a little time writing this story.
Our story... Or just my story.
I almost forgot, I haven't told you his name yet.
His name is Bi Yangji, a Frenchman of Italian descent. He was born in 1990 in a small town called Granferry in Lorraine Province. He is very tall, about 190cm. A cute little curly hair. His eyes are brown, with deep eye sockets, and he wears a pair of old-school black-framed glasses all year round. He has a typical Jewish nose with a slightly straight bridge. He was even insulted for this on the Paris subway. The lips are very thin, and the chin has a beard that is extremely popular among middle-aged French people.
He looked silly when he smiled. There is a photo on the Internet of him during his exchange period at Oxford University. He was once a green boy with baby fat on his face.
When I stand next to him, I feel like a child.
Purpose: People will spontaneously seek change in painful moments. If he does not sink in the darkness, he will see himself more clearly, learn how to love, how to give, how to listen to the inner voice, and how to touch those things that are invisible with the eyes. This process is what we call growing up.