On the day Chen Ya left quietly, Liu Ruyan was struggling with the air and was hungry the whole day.
She didn't know whether she fell asleep or fainted from hunger, but when she opened her eyes, the moonlight had climbed to the end of the road outside the window, hanging obliquely beside the withered branches of hyacinth.
Her stomach was rumbling, and she tried to inflate it.
Suddenly she remembered that she had been starving like this before, and Chen Ya said angrily that he wanted to punch her in the stomach, and she suddenly laughed in frustration.
Then she became sad again.
She parted with him.
She walked to the kitchen in the moonlight and opened the refrigerator. The warm light shone on her face, and the cold air hit her, but the emptiness in her heart felt a little relieved.
After counting the items for a long time, she picked out two pieces of bread and an egg and tried to make a sandwich for herself.
As soon as I opened the bread bag, tears dripped onto the bread.
The refrigerator compressor started to sound at the right moment, as if offering useless comfort.
Liu Ruyan sobbed and wiped away her tears, feeling both wronged and painful.
Now that I think about it, Chen Ya is simply a really bad person.
她一个人徘徊在湖边，他只是在那边静静看着；她鼓起小肚子，他就想往上面揍一拳；她比任何人都爱着他，他却不辞而别了。
Liu Ruyan sat on the sofa holding a sandwich. With every bite, she thought of the dreamy and happy days when Chen Ya was by her side.
After finishing the sandwich, she licked her fingers in an unmannered manner, drank the water in the glass gulply, and slumped on the sofa.
The sound of water dripping from somewhere was heard non-stop, and cicadas were chirping stealthily from somewhere. Liu Ruyan was lying on the sofa, and her head was filled with the voice of Chen Ya, which came from nowhere.
The moonlight tonight was exceptionally quiet. She stared out the window, feeling the wrinkles in her heart smoothed out a little.
"The bright moon knows nothing of the pain of separation, its slanting light shines through the red door until dawn."
She suddenly remembered this poem, which was quite appropriate here.
She walked to the balcony and saw buildings standing in front of her, with lights from thousands of houses.
The windows form bright squares. In the squares, there are men sitting alone under the lamp, mothers and daughters eating silently, middle-aged men singing loudly, and women mopping the floor with their children on their backs.
These blocks are like the cross-section of life, cut open vertically to reveal the core to Liu Ruyan. She vaguely feels that there may be some revelations in them.
Her father used to murmur about Wang Guowei's "three realms," such as "Last night the west wind withered the green trees. I climbed the high tower alone and looked out at the end of the world."
What about "I will never regret my clothes getting looser and looser, I will become haggard for her"?
What is "I searched for him among the crowd for hundreds of times, and when I turned around, he was standing in the dim light."
Now that I think about it, isn’t this just like “climbing a high building alone and gazing at the endless road to the horizon”?
I guess after a while, I will "never regret even if my clothes become looser and looser."
When will I be able to look back and find him standing at the end of the street where the lights are dim?
Liu Ruyan buried her face in her arms.
"Teacher, I miss you."
Perhaps everyone who achieves great things in the world has experienced a painful love relationship.
The first thing Liu Ruyan did the next day was to install a book cover for the book "Love in the Time of Cholera".
She knew that this book, as the last gift Chen Ya gave her (she didn't know if it could be counted, but she would have thought so), should bear witness to a lot of history.
Paper pages, like memories, will turn yellow with the passage of time.
Books can be protected by book covers, but how can memories be protected in the face of inevitable oblivion?
There seems to be no other way except to repeat those memories over and over again, ruminating like a cow, and savoring the aftertaste like drinking tea.
For Liu Ruyan now, those things were like slowly cutting holes in her heart with a knife.
In this room where she could only feel the air with her tentacles and there was no sign of the teacher, any memory was like a blow to her sensitive self.
However, everything related to Chen Ya made her sad: the gold-rimmed plates he always used, the toothbrush with worn-out bristles, the slippers with holes in them, and his unique scent that permeated all her clothes and body and was everywhere in this room.
The human brain is very strange. She reminded herself not to think about him, not to think about him, but when she did so, she was thinking about him.
Missing someone is like poison. When the dose is strong enough, she will be overwhelmed by grief and hope to die in her sleep.
She could only lie on the bed stained with his scent, with her hands and feet stretched out infinitely, her green and tender white fingers brushing over every inch of the place where he had lain, trying to find any traces he had left.
She crumpled the wrinkled sheets even more, she tossed and turned, making her clothes even more messy, she closed her eyes, stretched out her five fingers, and tried to use the air to simulate the gentle and affectionate touch of the past.
She had a fever, her temperature was so high that she couldn't even stand up.
She used all her strength to dial the phone number of the supermarket downstairs. When the guy brought the takeaway upstairs, he noticed something was wrong at a glance.
"What's wrong with you? Do you want to go to the hospital?"
"unnecessary."
She slammed the door shut and then sat down on the floor.
She suddenly felt very helpless, not because she was sick, but because she suddenly thought that Chen Ya, who was somewhere unknown, might have met all kinds of people and had interactions with different women.
She had no control over it at all and could only stubbornly believe that she could wait for him to come back.
After lying in bed for two days, the fever subsided and I was almost recovered, but I was still weak.
She walked slowly to the coffee table. The living room seemed completely new compared to before she got sick.
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