Preface: In order to meet somewhere http://book.sina.com.cn On May 11, 2009, 21:41 Sina Reading
A few days ago, I saw a mail forwarded by a classmate, which was a photo of the reunion of middle school classmates during the Spring Festival. Not me. I opened the mail with great expectation, and it was all a metamorphosis. Each face was enough for a brain teaser. I couldn't match the names in the contact list sent together. I went to the toilet to look in the mirror, splashed some water on my hair, grabbed it at the ends, stared, and found that my face was probably hard to recognize. Twenty years is really too long, and strangeness can only refresh unfamiliarity again and again.
One day I went to perm my hair. Since the place combined beauty and hairdressing, the little worker responsible for washing hair kept changing. The small rods smeared with cold perm solution were always loosely tied with rubber bands. When she was busy with the next one, this one had slowly fallen into my neck, fortunately supported by a plate on my shoulder. That girl kept recommending me to do beauty care. I didn't have the mood to say I didn't bring much money. I said my skin was allergic, and I dared not try new products. I even cursed myself, but she still wouldn't stop. Suddenly, she took a piece of paper with cold perm solution and rubbed it on my face, saying "You should trust our product. Look at this, if there's no external allergy, then it's fine." I was about to get angry when she wiped it off with warm water. Indeed, my skin didn't feel any itching sensation. Then the girl recommended me to get an injection. I asked, "Are those injections that celebrities take to live forever?" She confirmed it, saying that now there are not only overall youth-preserving ones, but also local ones, such as preventing wrinkles at the corners of the eyes, preventing bags under the eyes from sagging, and making the neck smooth, etc. Local ones calculated by area would be cheaper than those making the whole face young. I don't know, an old body paired with a tender face, how beautiful is that? Mismatched, shedding dry skin on the body, dewdrops hanging on the face, almost like a living ghost.
To prove her words were credible, the young worker turned my chair half a circle towards the door. There was a big photo on the door frame, showing two photos of a woman side by side. She said, "That's our boss. Young, right!" Her tone was full of pride. I was very curious because I couldn't see any difference at all. Her face was originally not old. I asked, "Does this injection have side effects? Is it like drug addiction, where you'll age immediately if you stop taking it?" The hair washer said, "Impossible, otherwise who would take it?" This question was useless since she hadn't taken it herself and knew nothing. We just held our ground, and in the end, no additional items were added. When I left, I gave the photo of the female boss who did the injection a glare. I'm a person who goes with the flow, and it's better if no one pays attention to me anywhere. If I look like a monster, I can't even accept myself. Whether young or old doesn't matter, being able to live longer is fine.
When I got home, I asked Tuti, who was receiving drawing enlightenment, to draw a realistic picture for me. I pointed to my old face and said, "Draw what you think mom looks like, and let me see your true skills." Saying this, I was probably quite confident, estimating that I didn't look bad. Ten minutes later, I saw Tuti seriously poking at the painting, very curious, so I asked what he was drawing. Tuti didn't even lift his head, "I'm drawing your face." I walked closer and screamed. He frowned and pointed at me with his little finger: "Look, there are so many spots on your face, it will take more than an hour to finish drawing them." Then he continued to add spots inside the large circle he outlined. I helplessly ran to the toilet: "This is the root cause buried in my belly when you were in my stomach. Now I can only use a laser gun to sweep them away." Tuti sighed, "Ah, women—" and prolonged the sound.
We really are getting old. What's most infuriating is that we don't even know when we started aging.
Fortunately, it's not just me getting old, there's a whole crowd of people accompanying me. Among the masses, we're doing alright at least; we don't have a big belly and a whole body of fat. On the endless journey to old age, I'm glad to have so many companions. Because while you keep losing, you're also constantly gaining. You lose time, but gain affection, and the passing time makes those fresh-air-like affections become so precious.
One day, Tuti said, "Mom, if you didn't have to work, and I didn't have to go to school, that would be great, then we could always play together." Although this happy aspiration is filled with the taste of drinking northwest wind, for a family, "being together" is so worth cherishing. The days we can spend together due to such a bond are not many. How many times can I call "mom," and how many times can I hear my child call me? Therefore, everything is so precious.
Friendship is the same.
We step with unchanging pace, wearing our respective crystal beads, meeting at one intersection after another. Some people just come to greet you, then rush away greedily. We will erase memories with a dirty eraser after parting ways. You need to rub hard, leaving no trace, and lightly, maybe remembering decades later during a casual chat.
But some encounters are like throwing a seed into your heart at the moment of recognition. It grows slowly, indicating its existence. For a long time, you are unaware. Until, a sandstorm comes, and in the moment of near suffocation, you find a faint flicker of green in your heart. They, are my lasting emotions.
Yearning is so warm. The text messages in my phone that I can't bear to delete bloom like flowers. They are my four seasons. So, why shouldn't we face aging gracefully?
Thank you to those who met me through words, thank you to the names blooming in my heart, thank you Tuti, thank you to my family, thank you to each day of life.