Romance is just a kind of beautiful feeling that passes through.

by haiataovvj on 2011-09-19 20:21:16

When love comes to a person, their heart will beat like a rabbit, blood boiling, mouth dry, face red, and the whole person seems changed. Once love arrives, it is like a flood of fierce beasts that is impossible to resist. At that moment, one wishes to merge the other into their own body, you in me and me in you, as if wanting to break the other's heart hundreds or even thousands of times instantly.

Love then bears fruit. There are two outcomes: one is marriage, which becomes more mundane over time, eventually turning into a relationship centered around daily chores; the other is a breakup, each becoming the other's ex-love, gradually forgetting with the passage of time, and eventually possibly not even remembering each other's names. In a lifetime, it's impossible to constantly yearn for one person. Women as foolish as Wang Baochuan are almost extinct, and we finally all understand: when love is gone, let go! Separate! What’s the point of continuing to entangle?

Of course, some people may never find true love in their entire lives, but they still long for it. In the world of love, countless words can be spoken without anyone thinking it inappropriate. Lovers' bodies secrete a chemical substance that can make someone appear stunningly beautiful, dashing and carefree, gentle and considerate, tolerant and kind. Love also resembles a swollen pimple on the face, glowing red, always at risk of being squeezed burst. With the wiping away of time, it slowly fades. The person remains the same, but the heart no longer ripples, it has become calm.

We cannot deny that love is merely a fleeting beauty that passes through the gut.

Perhaps, love is merely a fleeting beauty that passes through the gut.

Love is like a fleeting beauty that passes through the gut, leaving only traces in one's life. As time goes by, these traces either fade or become less vivid. When reminiscing about the days of past love, there is always a hint of mild sorrow that wells up in the heart. Love, it passes through the gut, the beauty left behind does not exceed the heartache. Beauty is just the memory of the instant of love, like a meteor.