At the Age of Sixty, I Choose to Restart My Life

On our wedding anniversary, I cleaned up the house and put together a photo album. Turns out my husband brings his white moonlight to take photos this time of year. From the age of forty to sixty, from black hair to white hair, he has never been absent for a whole twenty years. Since he doesn't love me, I don't have to wash, cook, or take care of his children and grandchildren. I have spent most of my life in a daze, and it is not too late to change now.