It Took Me Twenty Years to Understand

I once vowed to make a living in the city. The result was a head-scratching blow: the hotel was trying to survive, running the market, and losing all money in starting a business. The relationship took two paths: For a period of time, she believed that "you can win if you work hard". Later, I stayed where I was while she rushed forward and slowly dispersed. There was a time when someone came like light and held an umbrella to accompany me for a walk, but one rainy day, he never came back. I accepted my fate in embarrassment. Until I opened the door in the evening - my daughter's eyes were shining, and my wife brought warm dishes. Only then did I realize that those wrong paths were all pointing the way. Like the broken umbrella I kicked away in 2005 and the runny egg noodles I ate, the foreshadowing of "home" was already buried in my stumble.