How could you, such a romantic person, marry him? How should I answer

Many friends who know me well will ask me the same question. How could you, such a romantic person, marry him? How should I answer. I thought about it for a long time. One of us studies literature and the other engages in sports; one loves reading and the other loves sports; one lives in real life and the other lives in his own quiet world.

To be precise, I fell in love with him. How I fell in love with him. I fell in love with his handsome appearance, tall stature, and also fell in love with his harmonious family. More importantly, when I walked out of school, he was the first man I met who was my age, a man I had a crush on. Childish me, I don’t understand love. Thinking that liking is love, thinking about it, is really naive, love is such a heavy topic.

Waiting for his courtship, I waited for a long time. I missed a lot of boys who were better than him. Do you regret it? In the dead of night, I asked myself. No, there is no medicine for regret in the world.

I once asked him, hey, you said, we are really not suitable, how did we live until today? He always ignores me. Watch his TV. drive his car. eat his meal.

That day, the office made an electronic photo frame. Inside, photos of everyone from birth to the present are displayed. They looked through. Sorry one by one. Yu, you are so beautiful, looking for him wronged you. You should find a better one. You are not suitable. I laughed. what can I say? I didn’t understand love when I was young. When you understand love, it is no longer the blooming season of life.

I once asked him. Hey, everyone said, I wronged myself by looking for you. He said, honey, you didn’t tell them when I was young, I’m sure I wasn’t like that, handsome like that. I laughed and didn’t say anything.

I don’t know which men can tolerate some inexplicable questions from me. Some, a little hurt to his heart. But he never cared. Still smiling.

He never praised me or affirmed me. Including, my work is excellent and I am kind.

I once said to him. Hey, to make friends, I would like to make friends like you. If you are looking for a husband, please decline to visit!

I asked myself. You, miss him what?

I miss his shoulder. I’m tired, so I lean on it.

I miss his hand. In the cold wind, he would hold my little hand in his big one.

I miss every hug and kiss before he left.

I miss every night when he embraced me in his arms.

I am nostalgic, he is like a child, lying on top of me, letting me ruffle his hair.

I am nostalgic, in bad weather, he drove me to and from him.

I am nostalgic for the small gifts he bought me when I went out.

Do I love him? I have no idea. I only know that love has become a habit. Whether it is love or not, I can’t tell.

Once, he said inexplicably, there are really not many people like us. I thought about it. That’s not necessarily the case, we didn’t walk into other people’s lives.

I once said to him. In the next life, I will definitely not marry you. However, I will definitely be good friends with you. I want to find a man who loves me, treats me well, and treats me like my life. He never said a word. What is he thinking?

My mother said, silly boy, you can’t speak freely, you have to consider other people’s feelings. Marrying him is your blessing. Be content.

Hey, my mother said, marrying you is my blessing. He watched TV and laughed, that is, silly girl, you don’t know your blessings when you are in the blessings.

Hey, my mother said, would you be upset if I said that? He smiled again, I, the prime minister, can punt a boat in my stomach.

In the dead of night, I was asking myself again, what is love? I get it, tolerance. Tolerance is also part of love.