Post Date April, 15 2023
If it weren't for that damn movie, you wouldn't know me. It's all my fault that my hands stink. Out of that bunch of tickets, I actually drew a ticket in the middle of a row of girls.
As the saying goes, a woman is five hundred ducks, and I really don't want to be drowned in the fragrant foam of a woman equivalent to ten thousand ducks. I quickly changed my ticket and escaped. Who would have thought of sitting next to you like this? I really didn't mean to sit with you. Fortunately, when there was only one woman, there was no duck left.
If it weren't for that damn bet, you wouldn't have fallen in love with me. I carried that pile of dirty clothes to your dormitory, hoping that you could throw them all away from the window so that I could win a box of cigarettes.
But you really disappointed me. The next day, you washed the clothes thoroughly and sent them back to me, causing me to almost lose a month's food expenses. I really don't want you to help me wash those dirty clothes.
If it weren't for the crowded car, I wouldn't have taken you into my arms. Seeing you in the crowd, unable to reach the sky or the ground, with your hands on your chest, swaying with the vehicles like a lonely boat drifting in the wind and rain.
I was soft hearted for a moment, holding you in my arms. I originally only wanted to give you temporary support, not a lifetime of support.
If it weren't for your tears, I wouldn't have kissed you. On that confused night, your shoulders twitched and tears flew like flying flowers. I really want to dry you with my hand, but I accidentally used the wrong mouth, and it happened that your face was so close to me.
Although I have made so many mistakes, I still hope you can forgive me and not really marry me.
I know I owe you a lot of debt. Can you find another way for me to repay you?
Please don't marry me. Although you say you love smelling the smoke on my body now, when you really marry me and see my pants that are often burnt out by smoke, you will bite your teeth with hatred.
Please don't marry me. By then, you won't be able to tolerate me being full of alcohol and not returning home at night. Although you say now, the days you miss are also equally beautiful.
Please don't marry me, although you can gently look at my carelessness and see it as natural and unrestrained now, if you really marry me, you will regret it and curse like all women: Marrying you, I am considered blind.
Also, please don't marry me because I will let you do laundry, cook, and have children. Make you smell like oil fumes and have pregnancy marks on your face. Make your waist and limbs thicker, your voice louder, your hair furrowed, your youth faded, and you grow old overnight.
I say so many reasons to you because I don't want to make mistakes again and again. Forgive me, okay? Don't really marry me. Don't make me a youth killer, watch you wither in my hands.
If after reading these reasons, you are still stubborn, like a moth to the fire, hoping to burn out your beauty at the moment you put on your wedding dress, then marry me.
