Handwritten Letters' Affection

Author: (USA) Sparks Translator: Wang Zhe / Country: United States
Publisher:
Publishing Time: 2006-06-01
Features: This is a celebration of enduring passion and timeless love, a story that makes us laugh and cry, reminding us of true love. A love story you’ve never read will unfold here, beginning a love as bitter and moving as any in the world. "I am not special, I’m sure of that. I, a man with ordinary thoughts, living an ordinary life. There is no monument dedicated to me, my name will be forgotten quickly. But I have loved someone with all my heart and soul, and that is enough for me." Miracle Who am I? I keep thinking. How should this story end? The sun has already risen, and I am still sitting quietly by the window. The window is fogged up, as if some creature left its breath when passing by. In the morning, I have almost become a scene: wearing two shirts, heavy pants, a scarf wrapped twice around my neck and stuffed into my thick sweater, a gift knitted by my daughter thirty years ago for her birthday. The room’s thermostat is already set to the highest warmth, and there is a small radiator behind me, ticking softly, groaning in a low voice, spewing waves of hot air, like a dragon in a fairy tale. But my body still trembles from the never-ending cold. That cold has lived in my body for eighty years. Although I have long accepted my old age, eighty years! Sometimes I am still surprised by it. I haven’t warmed up since George W. Bush was president. I wonder if everyone my age is like this. My life? It’s not hard to explain. It’s not as noisy and spectacular as I once imagined, but I haven’t dug holes like a mole. I think it’s more like a blue-chip stock: quite stable, with more ups than downs, and it has been climbing higher and higher over time. I know not everyone can describe their life like this: a successful business, a lucky deal. But don’t be misled—I am not special, I’m sure of that. I, a man with ordinary thoughts, living an ordinary life. There is no monument dedicated to me, my name will be forgotten quickly. But I have loved someone with all my heart and soul, and that is enough for me. Romantics might call my life a love story, while cynics might call it a tragedy. In my opinion, it has a bit of both. But no matter how you see it in the end, it cannot change the fact that it has become most of my life, nor can it change the path I have chosen and will continue to follow. Perhaps my complaints about other things could fill a tent, but I have no complaints about the path I have chosen and where it has led me. That path has always been the right one, and there is no other. Unfortunately, time hasn’t made it easy to stay on track. Although it is still as straight as before, it is filled with stones and sand accumulated over the course of my life. Maybe until three years ago, these could still be easily ignored, but now…