I like the girls across the building, eager to know everything about her.
I started spying on her, looking through her garbage, putting a camera in her room, smelling her in her bed, hiding under her boyfriend’s bed and listening to their love…
But all of this, silently, landed in a needlehole camera next to the cat’s nest, which I didn’t install.
I.
I like a girl, and I think she’s pretty pretty, thin, hairy and clean.
She lives in the building opposite me, one street between our two houses.
I often saw her by the window.
Sometimes she was tanned, sometimes standing by the window, looking outside with her headphones, and I didn’t know what she was looking at, but looked at her far away and thought she was very nice.
She likes white clothes, whether they’re tanners, underwear or clothes, the most I’ve ever seen is white.
Her desk should be by the window, so I can see her often, and in many cases only one head and shoulder. I guess she could be sitting at a desk, reading a play, wearing makeup, getting ready for a date.
She shouldn’t have a boyfriend.
I used to look at her in the window, and I didn’t see a guy send her back, I guess.
My job is free, I don’t have to go to the company, I can do it at home, so I’m always standing by the window, and sometimes I pretend to be a workman and go with her to the subway station just to get closer to her.
She’ll be out on time at 8:00 and I’ll be a little later than she is so I can walk behind her.
She didn’t find me because she was always with headphones on her way out. I was wondering what song she liked to hear.
I’d love to hear her list.
She always comes home on time, usually at 7:00.
In the room, she would open the curtains and open the windows for ventilation.
I can’t see her very well. I even thought about going online to buy a telescope. I wonder what she does in her room every day.
She never came back today, her room was always dark, and I was restless walking around the room, where she went and why she didn’t come back.
Around 10:00, I saw a man and a woman walking through the aisle, and I knew her profile, even though she was downstairs, I was on the fourth floor, and I knew it was her.
They walked down the stairs with their hands held by each other and let each other go. She brushed the door card, she waved at him, she walked into the door, she came out and grabbed him. I couldn’t hear what they said, probably in the spirit of love.
Honestly, I’m jealous.
I hate her holding him. I hate her holding other men. I’d love to.
She took the garbage bag out of her room and I did not follow her to work today.
I saw her throw a garbage bag in the garbage, and I watched her go away.
For the first time, I was a little nervous, and I looked to my left, and a working man came over, and I pretended to go down and strapped my shoelaces, and the rest saw him walking to the road, and I looked around, and nobody, and she threw the garbage bag, and I went home.
My heart is beating so fast, I can’t look around, and I’m afraid that people will see my actions from afar and see through my thoughts.
I walked home, closed the door, and no one saw me steal her garbage. I’m glad.
I poured something in the garbage bag, with a broken stocking with old toothbrushes, a lot of used paper towels, and a plastic bag. If I get the treasure, take out the stocking, she won’t walk easy, her thumbs are heavy, the stockings are so thin in the thumb position, and a broken hole.
She didn’t throw garbage every day. In the morning when she didn’t, I followed her to the subway station and looked at her behind her. I took a lot of pictures of her. She wore different clothes every day, mostly jeans or little skirts, which looked so gentle, she didn’t like heels, I guess, because she was almost all wearing sneakers or canvass.
I washed her photos, made them into photo albums, and I turned them over when I couldn’t see her, but they were almost all backs and sides, because I was filming them, and I was afraid she would find them, so I was always careful.
Today, she didn’t take out the garbage, and I followed her, as usual, and today she wears a plaid dress, which is particularly gentle and my heart keeps beating.
She’s in trouble and flipped her backpack in front of the gate to the subway, and I think she may have dropped her card.
I accidentally threw my card behind her and walked away, and she turned over her bag and started looking around and fell down.
A kid picks up a card on the ground and says, “Sister, is this yours? I’m sorry.
She was surprised, the smile of her eyes spread, and she said thank you, and she took out a lollipop for the kids.
I looked at them from afar, the sugar, it should be mine.
Recently, she started running at night, and I saw that she was well equipped and bought a cynic watch, and I was worried about her, that there was a lot of negative news about running at night, that she was so pretty, and what if she met the bad guy?
I’ve been out of sports for a long time, but I’m worried about her.
I ran behind her and controlled a distance.
She usually runs for half an hour, with a river next to the district, which is flat concrete land, where some old ladies dance in the square.
I’ve been sleeping very fast lately for running, and I can’t sleep much of her before I sleep. I always dream about her, I dream about her smiling at me, I dream about her in my arms, I dream about her, I dream about her.
Today she’s carrying a bag of garbage, and I’m not panicking anymore, and I’ve learned how to pick up the garbage bag quickly and find a way home.
She doesn’t eat spicy, because every time she drops her chili sauce, she likes to eat sweet, because she’s afraid of fat, but she always does. She’s not the kind of person who spends money, because she doesn’t get more than $25 every time she orders it, she’s got red bags, she loses everything, and maybe because I like her, so she’s a nice, gentle girl in my heart.
I love her. I want to know more about her.
I dreamt of her last night, and I miss her very much today, and I followed her all the way to the subway station, and I was still not satisfied, and I followed her to the station, standing in front of the same car, and I saw her talking to her.
There were many early peaks, the cars were crowded, she stood in the small corner by the door, and I deliberately moved to her, pretending to be crowded. I stood outside her, with my back against the force of the crowd, and I held a rail with one hand against the wall, as if she were in my arms, and I could smell her, and she sprayed perfume.
It’s the closest time we’ve got, so I can feel her breath.
The boy has been coming home with her lately. Don’t you have to go home after work? Why send her home every day? I hate him.
The thing that pisses me off most is that I saw her take him upstairs.
When she got to the room, she closed the curtains.
I stood by the window, and I couldn’t see the state of her room, and suddenly I panicked, and she seemed to be out of my grasp.
That night, the boy didn’t come out. He spent the night at her house.
The next day they held hands and the boy had a bag of garbage in his hand.
As soon as they left, I took the trash home.
When I see something inside, I feel like I’m suffocating.
It’s a mess of trash, and the eye-deep, dry condoms and bags, and they had sex, and the girl I liked, she didn’t belong to me, she belonged to someone else.
I think she has someone she likes, and I should give her up, though I never had her.
They lived together, and that day I watched her and the boy who was in charge of the moving company move things, and there was a couch, and there was a dream, and probably the old bed was too small for two. I imagined they were in the same bed and he held her in his arms.
They always went out to work together, she stopped wearing headphones and listening to songs, and she was always hanging on him, like she couldn’t walk, and on one occasion she met them at the door of the block, she had the boy’s arm, and I never saw her smile on her face. So luminous, so sweet, so in love with a woman, like a shining light that I can’t see, and so beautiful, now she was created by that boy.
I’m really jealous and jealous.
Their garbage turned into daily, two people lived, the amount of garbage increased, they often had relationships, once a day to twice a day, young people living together, and the joy of love increased their desire.
He smokes, but not much, for three or four days, he smokes a pack, but recently he’s changed to King Frou.
They have recently begun cooking, and they like to eat chicken wings, and almost every time they have a chicken bone, there is no condom in the garbage bag.
They didn’t work together yesterday, and I thought it was a coincidence, but today she’s gone, too, and she’s plugged her headphones.
I think they probably had a fight.
She didn’t come back this week, I stood by the window every day, the lights were dark in her room and the boy didn’t come back, and I assumed they were on vacation.
In the morning, I went to take out the garbage, and a taxi parked downstairs, and the boy took her down, and I watched her from afar, and I felt her weakness, and she was pale, and the boy was holding her.
She’s sick, I’m worried.
The curtains in her room were always closed and I couldn’t see the movement inside.
Since their return, she has not gone to work and every morning boys go to work alone.
She has recently come to her aunt for a particularly long time and a week is not a good time, and the boy has recently become a little more addictive, from a pack of cigarettes for three or four days to a pack of cigarettes a day.
They’ve been making soup recently, and party rooster soup is particularly frequent, and it’s so nutritious, it’s a good thing.
About half a month later, I finally met her, and she looked so thin, as if the wind would blow her away, and I didn’t think she was happy, and the girl who saw the light suddenly went out.
They don’t have an empty box of cigarettes and cigarettes in their garbage, and I don’t see him anymore. I think they broke up.
I guess so. One weekend in the morning, the boy came downstairs in a taxi and went down a couple of times, pulled the suitcase and the big knitted bag.
I saw her standing by the window, and without all the curtains being closed, she left a corner, staring at him downstairs, watching him carry all his luggage and then disappearing.
I can’t see her specific face, but I guess she’s awake and she’s crying.
She started working alone and came home in the early autumn, but she was already dressed so thick that she shrunk her neck while walking, as if she was very cold.
In the morning, I followed her, as usual, and from the beginning I saw something wrong with her. She was pale, bloodless, walking around, shaky.
I’m not worried, I followed her to the subway station, I switched with her, and when I went up the escalator, I walked behind her, and she swayed, and she fell back, and I saw something wrong with her, holding her hand, catching her, and she was dazed to her waiting chair, and the aunts came together.
“Did the little girl not eat breakfast? Anemia. I’m sorry.
“Oh, such a skinny little girl, looks like the wind’s about to blow. I’m sorry.
“I’m looking at him. Don’t move too fast. Hold on to the girl. I’m sorry.
The aunts are talking.
I have a chocolate in my pocket that I bought from yesterday’s store.
I broke into little pieces and fed it to her mouth.
After a while, she probably recovered, even though her lips were as pale.
She opened her eyes and the aunts cheered with joy and then told her more than one of my great achievements.
She thanked me for helping her. She saved her life.
She said she had to go to work, and I gave her the rest of the chocolate, so she had to eat it and refuel it.
She smiled very softly and said a lot of thanks.
I saw her get in the car and she was warm.
She wasn’t impressed with me.
Then we met several times in the district, and she recognized me, thanked me, invited me to dinner and said she wanted to repay me.
I accepted her invitation with pleasure.
I thought I’d talk to her face-to-face, but she’s not, she’s a very gentle girl and no pressure at all.
When I order, she let me pick, though, she must thank me.
I take the menu, I watch the list, one by one.
“You can’t eat spicy. That’s not right. You like chicken wings. I’m sorry.
“Don’t drink cold, have some red sugar date soup”
I’m picking and saying.
I asked the waiter to come and do everything right, and I looked at her and found her looking at me.
“How do you know these, my preferences, my biological period. She has a sense of distance throughout her body.
I’m talking too much.
How can I tell her, personally, that I know very well.
“When you were looking at the menu, the unconscious looked at the chicken wing, not just for a look, but for other food, you just took a look, and when you saw the pepper chop, you said it was too hot, and I don’t think you would be able to eat spicy, or you wouldn’t say if the spicy was good, and you just went to the bathroom, and you took a little bag and my ex-girlfriend had a towel. I’m sorry.
I think she’s changed from shock to admiration.
“Are you a psychologist? I’m sorry.
“No, it’s just a conscious observation. I’m bullshitting.
“Then you must be a very caring person. I’m sorry.
She looked at me soft again.
That day, we talked a lot, from constellations to psychology, from Tanino to Watanabe, and I thought that the girl I liked was really moving and having a good time with, and we were very happy.
Later, she invited me to her house as a guest. She was a housewife, she had a neatly renovated house, she had a cat, a stray cat she picked up in the district, and she was always lazy on the couch.
She said she was happy to meet me, and I was so happy to meet her.
The other day she told me that her keys had dropped, that I had been with her for a long time, that we had gone back to her house, that we had been looking for them, that I had found those keys in the cat’s nest when she was going to ask for a lock changer. She said it was so nice to have a friend, always helping her with a lot of problems, and I was happy to help her.
I came home at night and looked at the key I put on the table and laughed at.
Looks like I don’t have to go through her garbage anymore.
Now we’re kind of familiar, we’re always having dinners, we’re going to movies, she’s so cute, she goes to a round of evaluations before a movie, she doesn’t go to the movies, she goes to the web after a movie, he searches, he finds out where he doesn’t understand, and he asks me to tell me that if I read it, and she follows her, she’s really happy and she thinks she’s great.
She likes to eat sweets, she’s particularly hot for dirty bags. Every time she eats on her hands, I give her a towel. She doesn’t have free hands. I rub her.
This week she went on a business trip to Beijing, and she asked me to feed her cats for a few days, to give me the keys to her home with great comfort, and to take a dirty bag as a reward.
I went home, took out the key in the box, the same key, and put it back.
Her house was clean, there was nothing on the floor but a little cat hair.
The cat saw me scared, hid under the sofa, I cleaned it up, poured its food, changed its water, and bought a cat can to please it, but it ignored me, and I walked away, and it ate.
Her room was clean and, as soon as she approached, she could smell the laundry fluid on the covers.
There’s some skin and makeup on the dressing table, not as many as my ex-girlfriend.
There’s a rug next to the bed, and I guess she sits here with cats, plays mobile phones, reads books.
There’s a glass of water on the table, a blue pottery cup, half a heart, obviously a couple cup, and another, probably with that guy, which I don’t have.
I took the cup to the living room and put it on the edge of the tea table.
The cat played in the living room, jumped up and down, jumped on the tea table.
I heard the sound of ceramic cracking, and I laughed with satisfaction.
The cat probably knew he was in trouble and hid under the couch.
I took pictures of her.
Her voice was sent. “This stupid cat, he’s broken two of my glasses. I’m sorry.
She’s not suspicious.
On the weekend, I went with her to get a cup, and she took me to a store with all kinds of cups.
“This store has been open for years. My cups are here. I’m sorry.
I think she was so excited to pick the cup.
She then stopped in front of a window where there was a pair of blue love pottery cups, just like her home.
She looked at it for a while, and her eyebrow flashed with emotions I had not seen in recent days, and then she passed away.
I know, she’s thinking about him.
She never talked to me about the man. She didn’t know I knew he existed.
Then I bought a pair of glasses with cats.
She one, me one.
Recently, her circle of friends has been sharing some very sad songs.
You talk to her, you say you’re tired, you’re busy, you ask her to dinner and you keep saying no.
I know something must have happened, but I didn’t make her ask.
Just follow her and rest.
I don’t like to force her to do things she doesn’t like.
Because I want to know, I can do it myself.
The other day she told me the switch was broken and I went with her to buy a new one and set her up.
I was curious what she was doing at home.
I remember when I saw someone sharing a needlehole camera in an online post.
Yeah, I want to know more about her, not around me, about her.
So I bought two, a light in her room, an alarm, on her bedside.
She only told me about him the other day, and she told me that she had an ex-boyfriend, a local, and that his parents wanted him to find a local, and that they broke up and that he had recently contacted her, and that she was troubled.
I know, it’s because she still likes him and she expects something from him.
I’m really jealous.
But I think it might be too short a time. I’ve done too little.
I started to see what she was doing every day, the night after I got well.
In the video, she spends her day-to-day days at work, takes a break from work, feeds cats to shit and sometimes sits on carpets and looks in notebooks. I don’t know what she’s looking at.
She wears little makeup. I think she wears skins every day and goes out. I guess it’s sunscreen.
On that day, I saw her sitting at the table for a long time, with red cheeks and eye shadows, for half an hour.
I have a bad feeling about this.
I stood on the window and watched her jump out.
That night I saw him, the man who hadn’t seen her for so long.
I watched them hold the floor.
In the video, they kissed from the door, and then two people fell on the couch, and I watched him fade away from her clothes, and watched her kiss him and then hit him.
I saw the cat in the room.
The process was quick, she was lying on top of him, the couch was small, his hands were on the floor.
They went to the shower, they were lying in the bedroom bed, and the video wasn’t very clear, but I knew she was smiling, she was full of joy, and I knew it.
They ordered the delivery, she opened the door, picked up the bag in the hand of the delivery boy, came in and I saw her open the bag and opened a box, then poured a glass of water, like pills, and she drank and swallowed it.
He did not stay that night, he left and took the garbage bag from the room.
It was dark at night, and I turned on the light and found their bag of garbage.
It’s got a medicine box, and it says, “Little Pyroconone.”
I didn’t contact her, she didn’t contact me, and I know that even if they got back together, I was just a friend.
He came here often, but every time he went to bed, he left.
Every time he left, she sat on the carpet for a long time, I don’t know what she was thinking, and she sat, she didn’t move the phone, she didn’t play with the cat, she sat like that, like time was still.
I don’t know what their relationship is now, nor can I ask.
Maybe that’s what I thought. I didn’t deserve her, but she liked it.
From then on, I used to sneak into her house during the day when she went to work.
There’s more men’s breath in the house, there’s condoms in the trash cans that they used yesterday, and I’ve seen pink, milky, blue, yellow.
Because that stupid cat comes all the time, and I always bring the cans and he eats them up and sometimes rubs me.
I sat on the sofa, and I imagined what they were lying on.
Go into her room.
Her bed, once two people.
I lay in her bed, covered her with a blanket, and imagined the person who lay with her in bed and made out with me.
He came here very often so often that I felt that his desires in this regard were different from those of others.
He ring the doorbell and I watched a woman stare at him after a tree in a distance.
That’s how it happened, so I’m sure the woman was following the man.
I think things should be the same as I thought, but I didn’t do anything. I just watched things happen.
He came back that day, with lots of food, fruit and cake.
The delivery boy came twice, and they sat on the living room tea table, which was big enough.
The woman walked downstairs again and saw a man open the door downstairs, and she followed.
I saw her go to the door on video, and the woman pushed her in, and the woman was so fierce, she looked at what was on the tea table, she threw the cake over her body, and there was food, and she yelled at something, and she smashed it, and it was a mess.
I looked at that woman’s mouth and she said, “Damn bitch. I’m sorry.
The man protected her, but it didn’t work. He pushed the woman out of the house.
I stood on the window and watched the woman go all the way down and he pushed her away, and I got into a taxi.
In the video, she was crouching on the floor, and she was crying, and I saw her shoulder shaking, and she picked up the cake on the ground and stuffed it in her mouth, crying and stuffing it in her mouth.
I see she’s been cleaning for a long time, from light to darkness.
And then I never saw that man again, and I thought he was an asshole and I hurt two women.
But fortunately, she was finally hurt and I finally got a chance to get close to her.
When I saw her face-to-face again, she was like a dry flower and she wasn’t angry at all.
I bought her a dirty bag. She said she didn’t want to eat.
I took her home, cooked her porridge, and the cat saw me come and rubbed me in the leg.
“How it gets so much like you. I’m sorry.
“Yeah, I used to get scared under the couch. I’m sorry.
“The cat’s a natural. I’m sorry.
“It’s probably my destiny. “We’ve fed so many cans.
Look at her a little, a little porridge.
She had long eyelashes and looked at them, and suddenly they were covered with beads, and I looked at her, red eyes, a drop of tears slipped into her chin and dripped into porridge.
“I’ve been through a lot lately. I’m sorry.
“It’s over. “I sat beside her and reassured her back.
“No past, no past. She yelled, “Why are you being so nice to me, you know, I’m a third person and I’ve ruined someone’s family. I’m sorry.
“The woman who came to my house, threw me with a cake, threw the food on me, called me a bitch, and I couldn’t even resist because I was, and I was.” I’m sorry.
I didn’t say anything. Put her in my arms.
She’s excited.
“I know it doesn’t work, I know his parents don’t like me, I know he can’t resist his parents, why I have to deal with him, I’m so stupid, so stupid. I’m sorry.
I’m still silent.
“You know, I’ve lived for over 20 years, for the first time, with a cake on the floor, and it’s all sticky with soup and cream, and that’s my favorite ice cream cake, and I haven’t eaten it, and I feel so wasted, I sit on the floor, eating cake with cat hair, I eat it, I eat it all, I don’t waste it. I’m sorry.
She’s crying and talking, and I don’t think she’s boring.
I put her to sleep.
Then I took a cab and bought her a cake. Yeah, it was ice cream cake. She said she liked it.
I waited for her to wake up and then put candles on her and blew her out.
I ate with her. She said it was delicious.
I like the way she’s happy.
II.
I know he likes me, he won’t hurt me.
But he doesn’t know. I know he came to my house.
To watch what cats do at home every day, I put a pet camera at home, right there in the cat’s nest.
I saw the video, I went out every day, and he came to my house, played with my cat, fed my cat canned, slept in my bed, covered my covers.
I was scared at first, but he did it every day, and nothing else.
I deliberately didn’t take out the trash, sometimes the trash can and the condoms, and I saw him every time he came to see the trash, and I wanted him to know that I had someone in my heart and that my body belonged to someone else.
I think he was in trouble, but he didn’t change anything, and I don’t know what he was thinking.
Isn’t it hard to make out with a woman you like?
When I think about my ex-boyfriend and his wife in bed, it makes me feel like I’m losing my mind, sitting on a carpet and not moving.
I told him about me the other day, and I told him that I was my ex-boyfriend’s third child, that I was mean, that I was mean, that he didn’t talk, that he was calm, that he didn’t ask, that he was just holding me, that’s the sense of security I never felt.
He made me porridge, fed me cats, cleaned me up.
When I woke up, he made me a cake, and that day I ate cake with a lot of cat hair, and I had a long belly, and now I can have a clean cake.
He’s got candles for me, so I’m gonna keep the program.
He won’t leave me like this. I’m such a bad woman.
He gave me a sense of security that I never had, and I felt like God sent me, and we were so close, he understood all my points, my emotions, my preferences.
He gave me a sense of security that I had never felt, that it was him, and that only he would be with me.
He went out again.
I think there’s something wrong with my new light bulb, and I stabbed it with a broom, and something hit my head, and I picked it up, and it was a microcam.
I know, I know.
Because I used to pretend at my ex-boyfriend’s house now.
I watched them make out, they fought, they fought.
So, did he see everything that happened in this house between me and my ex-boyfriend?
I didn’t have to leave a condom in the trash. He knew it.
He’s still like me.
Great.
Some love, others are so invincible.
That’s great.
I put it back with a ladder.
I’m not really scared.
Maybe it’s safe to know all the moves I’ve made to make him feel safe.
The electrician was hired to fix it and said that the air-conditioning jump had taken place in both the living room and the bedroom.
I called him, “I asked the master to come and say it was just a jump. I’m sorry.
“Okay, call me if anything happens. I’m sorry.
“I miss you so much. I’m sorry.
“Me too. I’m sorry.
That’s good. I know he loves me, that’s enough.
III.
We haven’t told each other, but we’re like couples, and I don’t know if that’s a relationship anymore.
I go to the market every day after I’ve done my job, she likes vegetables, she likes meat, except chicken wings.
I’ll buy good food, and I’ll do it when she gets off work.
By the way, she also gave me a key, and the one I’ve got I’ve got is useless.
She’s a lovely girl, she’s gentle, and I think there’s a bond between us, and there’s a lot I don’t have to say, one look, and she can understand what I mean.
I always feel that it’s really hard to meet a girl who knows her heart.
So I valued her, even if I knew that she still had him.
After all, she’s such a gentle, loving girl, and if she’s cold, I wouldn’t like her that much.
She’s really kind. There’s always a blind man sitting at the door by the subway. Every time she passes by, she puts a coin in there. She doesn’t throw it like anyone else. She goes down and puts it in there. I see people standing and throwing it in.
I asked her why she was so insistent to bend down every time and gently put in.
She said, “The Lord deserves respect for his work in exchange for remuneration. I’m sorry.
She added, “The blind will hear so well that by identifying the sound it should know whether others throw it or put it. I feel like throwing it, like giving it in a lowly manner, is not good. He is a musician, I am an audience, we are equal. I’m sorry.
It’s not something a man can say, and some people feel sorry for the beggars, but it’s only a pity that they don’t give a few change to excite their “goodness” and promote themselves.
Me, too, a dollar coin that may have fallen by the side of the road and not been picked up by anyone to give to someone who is worse than us, to satisfy his own good heart without much loss.
I think what she said made me think.
She looked at me and said, “Do I feel too much, too much? Don’t judge me, I know I may think too much. She looked up at me.
“No, you’re kind. I’ll do the same. I smiled at her.
“Do not think that I am the Virgin Mary, and that I am not all of them, and that my limbs are sound and healthy, and that I may say well in front of me with a bowl, and that I am utterly oblivious, that I will not give a single child, that no man’s money comes from the wind, and that it is an insult to an old man who sells. She explains it with great tension.
The word “mama” has now become a derogatory word.
“I know I know. She has her own ideas, and it’s good that the world is too good for hypocrisy.
“As I know, there may be a gang behind them, but what if he doesn’t, what if he’s just a blind uncle who sleeps in a bridge? I’m sorry.
I touched her head, that kind of emotional spread.
I really like her more and more.
She loved watching movies, always on that little screen on the computer, and I bought her a projector, and the wall at her house could make a curtain.
We used to watch movies on her couch on weekends.
Her tears were particularly low, but she was particularly fond of the fangs, and she cried particularly, each time with red eyes, red noses and red ears, and then the sound changed.
I laughed at her once, and she pretended to be angry and said to me with an unsettled cry, “You’re cold, you don’t have a tear gland, you don’t feel anything.” “My threshold is higher, and very few things can affect my emotions except for the fact that I like her.”
And then I got her, and I held her, and she was like a little cat in my arms.
Every time she comes to an aunt she’s in cold sweat, it’s too hard for a woman, it’s been so hard for a week, I can’t stay with her for a week, I can’t stay with her, I can’t fix her a hot water bag, I can’t give her a red sugar. I don’t know if this red sugar is working, but it’s like that on the Internet, a woman drinks more hot red sugar for her period.
I think she’d be much warmer even if she couldn’t ease the pain and look after her so hard.
I held her in my arms, I held her in my stomach, and she was like a wounded little animal, and she was covered in it.
But I’m also surprised that my ex-girlfriend came to my aunt with a sore back, but not so much pain, I guess.
When I knew she was so cute, sometimes I spent the night at her house, the alarm went off in the morning, and she wouldn’t want to get up, say she didn’t want to go to work, and I wanted to raise her. I said yes, she would say it was a joke.
She likes my handcakes, and it’s not hard to make them. I buy them on the Internet, 30 or 50, and then I buy salad sauce, ketchup and sausage, and she eats them for two months.
She went to wash, and I went to make the cake, and she said that it would take a little cucumber and lettuce, and I cut the cucumber in, and she brushed her teeth, and there was foam in her mouth, “It’s too little, too little, too much. * Speaking of which, foaming. *
I’ll cut it in. I told you, she likes vegetables.
I’m happy. I think she’s a good girl.
She didn’t have time to finish her breakfast at home. I put her in a bag and she went to work.
Yesterday I also made her lunches with broccoli she liked and chicken wings. She said she brought her company colleagues to eat with her, they said she was delicious and envied that she had such a nice boyfriend. I was happy to hear her boyfriend, and I liked that.
There’s a feeling that a fruit tree that’s been planted for a long time finally produces a fruit.
She’s a man who fears death. It’s not derogatory. I’m afraid of death.
A few days ago, an intermediary company broke out of formaldehyde, and she was scared to death when she watched it on Weibo, and then went to the net-purchase formaldehyde test and dragged me over the weekend to the florist market to buy green carrots and cactus, saying that it would reduce formaldehyde.
The greens and cactus are a better plant.
There were lots of plants in the florist market, she was attracted to it, she was attracted to it, I wanted to move them all home, and I wanted to talk to her too much, but I didn’t want to throw her cold water because she was so cute.
I wanted to keep her naively cute, so she said what she wanted, and she put back her advice, and we bought two flowers, and we bought a couple of green carrots and extra meat, too much stuff, and we couldn’t hold it, we ordered it.
She’s excited, she’s always looking forward to the plant coming to her door, and it looks like the day before her birthday when she was a kid, or the day before her spring trip, and looking forward to it.
She even listens to the doorbell, and then she starts saying to me, “Why didn’t you send it? I’m sorry.
He’d listen to the doorbell of his next neighbour, run away, and then come home disappointed.
That looks so cute.
Then the master finally brought the plant, and she ran off to help her master move up, and I moved with each of them.
Her apartment was actually small and there was no place to put it, and she was all over the place, with a washing machine on it, a toilet pole on it, a bedroom bowl on it and even a kitchen stove.
Not to mention the small platform on the balcony.
The house is green, and it’s full of life.
We’ll go for a walk after dinner because she says she’ll eat and rest, and we’ll get meat. We’ll go to the river where she used to run.
“I used to run here, and I bought a watch to test my heart rate. She smiled and said that I wanted to tell her that I knew that she was in danger of running at night and that I couldn’t say.
“But I can’t run anymore. She had a bit of sadness in her eyes.
“Why?”
“It’s a little bad. I’m sorry.
She did not run since she broke up with his predecessor.
Why does the body change? I’m a little skeptical, but I’m not asking, but I insist that I don’t ask if she doesn’t, that I’ll tell you, that I don’t want to ask.
Life is like this, it’s flat and sweet, and I think I’ve slowly entered her heart, and she has my place in her heart.
Life, if there is no turning around, seems too flat and boring, even though I would rather go on so bored.
Her cat was particularly naughty, always moving up and down, breaking the dry bowl on the stove.
She bought the bowls when she moved in.
We went back to the store, where business was good, and the little people were pickin’ up the dishes.
She wanted to continue looking for the old bowl, and she was a very old-fashioned person and special, from the taste of food to the baths used, which was a brand that rarely changed.
We looked at one shelf and one shelf, and she went down and looked at the bowl in the first row below, and I looked at it as if there was nothing in front of it. The wall on that shelf was a mirror wall.
I’ve always believed that people have a sense of crisis, that it’s unclear, but when the danger comes, it appears and gives you a panic.
I saw in the mirror the last person I wanted to see, not the one she saw.
He was holding his wife ‘ s hand and listening to a guide purchase of utensils.
“I’ve got a tummy ache. I’m sorry.
“You go or I’ll wait here. She didn’t raise her head.
“Come with me. I’m sorry.
“Why are you so sticky? She looked up at me funny.
I pulled her out of the store.
If I asked what I wanted now, I would probably wish that she would never see him again, and I’d be like an ostrich, timidly burying my head in the sand, so she wouldn’t see him, as if she could paralyze herself. She liked me. She was with me. She was with me. She was mine.
But actually, my heart’s scared.
I’ve always been a confident person, or I’ve looked down on a lot of things, or I’ve thought too much about myself, or I’ve wanted too much, and I’ve always wanted myself to live easy, to be happy, to never ask, but since she came to me, I know I’ve changed.
A man who invests a lot of thought, energy, emotion in one thing or one person wants something in return, and few selfless dedications, not including me.
She’s my soft spot, the one I can’t afford right now.
Walked far enough from them and I held her in my arms.
She’s weird, but she hugged me, “What’s wrong? I’m sorry.
“A sudden desire to hug you. I’m sorry.
“How suddenly so sticky. I’m sorry.
“I like you so much. I’m sorry.
“Aigoo, you’re suddenly becoming unbearable. I’m sorry.
She smiled.
If only it had been this way, I wouldn’t ask much.
IV.
I haven’t turned on that video in a long time because I see her every day.
It’s comforting to have a quiet little day with her and a cat.
I’ve always trusted her. I’ll believe anything she says.
She may not believe it, but I know her well.
Not so smart, just as familiar.
When she was not known in the previous period, she was seen every day, and when she was together, she was seen every day, not for purpose, but for her, and I wanted to know and to know.
Slowly, she knows her character and habits.
I know what she’s going to do next, what she means.
She’s a person who doesn’t like to reject others, and she’s indecisive, and every time a co-worker or a friend’s family has a problem that she doesn’t want to solve, she frowns, she’s short-lived, she just sits there, but finally she’s going to say yes, it’s almost necessary, and she’s so tired.
She wasn’t happy, but she wouldn’t complain to me.
I see it in my eyes, but human nature is natural and difficult to change in a short time.
She was afraid to pick up the phone or voice calls, and every time she did not want to answer them, or was afraid to do so, sometimes even when the bell was over, she replied to the other party with tweets or text messages.
This appears to be an additional act.
I know that in the time that the bell ended, she was building her own mind.
She told me that she was afraid of the blanks on the phone, that it would be embarrassing, that it would be difficult, and that she would be willing to send a lot of text.
She doesn’t have a taste, but she’s special, she likes a taste, and she’s going to go to the store, eat the food, wash the shower, spray the perfume.
So I was wondering if she was in love.
A lot of things she can’t fool me, and sometimes I prefer not to pay much attention to her myself.
Stupid people have bad luck. There’s a reason.
Too bad I’m not stupid.
On that day she was lying with me in bed, and I was sitting and reading, leaning, she was lying and brushing, and my remaining light would sweep her and her screen from time to time.
There was a tweet on the screen, one of which she cut it off, left it open, then the second one, and she did not.
And then she saw half of the page, and she took a look at me, and she changed her position, and she was lying down and playing with her phone, and I couldn’t see her screen.
I saw her move.
It was a subconscious move.
I guess at this point she’s trying to make excuses, maybe the next second she’ll tell me she’s going to the bathroom.
She did not, however, lie on her side as if she were typing and then reverted to the position of lying flat on her cell phone.
I saw that she didn’t continue to look at that tweet and began to draw up a reference list on the first page.
This situation is the same as when I did the software, when I received the message, and exited the response status.
I’ve been brushed away and started a new one.
She looked at me from time to time.
She’s starting to feel guilty.
And the reasons for the guilt, I can actually guess.
But I didn’t ask you anything.
She won’t look at my phone, and I won’t look at her phone.
It’s about giving each other privacy.
For a while, her cat was always thin, and she went to the pet hospital every night to hang water for two or three hours.
She said I’d work at home without me.
Every day when I came back, I felt her happy.
I didn’t ask. Just pretend she’s looking at cats all day.
I always held her on the bed or on the couch, and she was happy, because I could see it in her eyes.
I always hold her while we sleep together, and I like to hold her, and it’s kind of itchy, it’s kind of soothing.
I can still hear her breathing, which makes me feel so real and so sweet.
I really don’t want much.
We haven’t had a lot of time together lately, and she’s always going to work late on weekends.
There was a problem with her project.
Sometimes I come to her house, we sleep together at night, not every day, but every week for two or three nights.
I wanted to hold her, and she said she was tired, wanted to sleep separately, slept better, always sleeping on my arm, and fell asleep.
She turned her back on me, lying on her side, constricted herself, like she was in her mother’s womb.
So, she seemed more secure and more secure.
But in a moment, I heard her breathing.
I looked at her side and only saw her back.
I think she’s away from me.
The sixth sense isn’t just women, but men.
She’s busy. I asked her out for dinner, and she said she was tired or she had to take the cat for a shot.
It’s been a long time. Are you still sick?
I stood by the window and looked across her house, the window was dark.
Called her, but no response, no connection.
I don’t know if she’s busy or whether she’s meant to wait for the bell to end.
I hope not the latter.
Bringing a cat to an injection should be the closest pet hospital to us.
I got three locks on the phone map.
I’m sure that’s more important for cats.
Three public opinion evaluations, one of which was the best and the highest.
It’s not far. I’m walking.
I have envisaged many results.
I’m scared, I’m sad.
It was a little cold at night, and I wore a special coat.
I walked away for ten minutes and I saw the pet hospital, and I saw her through the glass.
She was wearing a yellow dress today, sitting on her chair and playing with her cell phone, and the cat was very well sidelined.
I sent her a message.
“Where are you?”
“In the hospital, water for Mimi. I’m sorry.
“I’ll pick you up. I’m sorry.
“No, I’ll be right back. I’m sorry.
And then I went home.
I walked in the window for about half an hour, and I watched her come back with a cat cage.
She’s wearing a white zipper I’ve never seen before.
I didn’t see her dress, either.
I didn’t contact her that week, and she didn’t contact me. It was like two people told each other not to disturb each other.
I’m very committed to my work, trying to suppress desire and not to look at her in the window.
And, don’t turn on that surveillance video.
I want to restrain myself from immersing myself in her.
At least this week is.
A week later, I finished my job and made a smooth transition.
I went to buy a lot of food, buy her favorite chicken wings, broccoli and some other dishes, and her favorite ice cream cake.
I texted her.
“The job is done well, and I’ll make you dinner tonight. I’m sorry.
After a long time, she gave me a message.
“Good. I’m sorry.
I still have the key she gave me. I went to her house to cook for her.
There were unwashed clothes in her dirty basket, and the yellow dress was still in the basket, but I did not see the white zipper.
V.
When I fed cat food, I saw a red light on the cat’s nest.
I always thought it was a decorative item, because it didn’t shine when it came before.
I know, it’s cat surveillance, and when I bought a needlehole camera, it appeared on the recommended list.
I just didn’t notice the cathouse before.
I couldn’t get a shot of my blind spot with a cat stick, and he jumped up and down, fell on the cat’s nest, fell on the floor, and the red light went out.
She’ll come back tonight and we’ll eat together.
None of us asked why we were not connected this week.
Like it never happened.
It’s been a long time since we had dinner.
I gave her chicken wings, and she pecked.
Her phone was on, it was micro-intelligence, two or three, but she turned off the reading.
So I saw only one notice, one notice, one notice.
She took a look at me.
And then the phone was buttoned.
My heart scratched.
“Why don’t you look who sent you the message. * I’m just saying *
“It must have been some kind of mess in the crowd. She said:
“What if the leader is looking for you? I’m sorry.
“Eat first. She’s not smiling anymore.
“Look at it. I said:
She lost her password to open the phone.
I didn’t see it, just burying my head for dinner.
I’m done eating. There’s no grain of rice in the bowl.
Saw her laughing.
“His message, right? I watched her panic.
We all know who he is.
“Don’t be afraid, I haven’t searched your phone. I’m sorry.
She questions, she wonders.
“I know you. Whenever you show that smile, I know you’re either brushing his circle of friends or brushing his tweets. I said, “That’s his message, too. I’m sorry.
“How well I know you, I’ll know what you’re doing, and it’s so sweet. I’m sorry.
If she doesn’t talk, I’ll keep talking.
“I called you the other day. You said you were at the hospital. He was there, right? I’m sorry.
I saw her magnifying the pupils.
“That’s his white coat, too. I’m sorry.
She hasn’t said a word, probably by default.
Him.
They are.
“I deleted his tweet. She said:
“Hmm. I said:
The cat jumped on me and I held it in my arms.
It’s a new season, the cat starts to lose hair, and she’s a little inflammated, and I think her nose is a little bit better, she’s a little hairy, and it’s working, and the amount of hair dropped off the ground is significantly less, and she won’t eat cat hair at dinner.
I’m combing with my hair.
“He’s been sending me confirmation messages lately. She said she was calm, like she was saying something normal.
“What did he say? “I’m also calm, as if we’re talking about as much as we eat today.
“He said he missed me. I’m sorry.
“Hmm. I’m sorry.
“I didn’t say yes at first. I’m sorry.
“And then you were soft, right? I’m sorry.
Her character, indecisive.
“He says he wants to meet. I’m sorry.
“Hmm. I’m sorry.
“He says he still loves me, he wants a divorce. I’m sorry.
I pulled the knotd cat hair, and it screamed and ran under the couch.
She doesn’t see me talking.
“You don’t want to say anything? I’m sorry.
I looked up at her, and I said, “You have fun, I respect your choice. I’m sorry.
She looked at me incredibly.
“Why don’t you yell at me? I’m sorry.
“No need. I’m sorry.
“You always look down on me like you know everything, like I’m naked in front of you.” I’m sorry.
She cried, and she said, “The more calm you are, the worse I look, the worse I’d rather you yell at me. I’m sorry.
She’s a little hysterical.
“No need. I’m sorry.
I didn’t mean to provoke her. I said it, I did.
“Give me the key you’ve got and the camera in the light bulb. * She’s rubbing her tears at me and saying *
She looked at me and said, “That day it fell, it hit me. I’m sorry.
Turns out she knew I had a camera.
I haven’t seen it in a long time. I didn’t notice the camera had been found.
I put the key on the table.
Then get up and leave her house.
VI.
As I said, she’s a unique person, and her specialty is that she can’t love two people enthusiastically.
Like she was with me, but the heart was gone.
From all her physical movements, there was a kind of precaution and alienation, and I felt she was gone.
But I also said that she was an indecisive person who was afraid to break up with me, perhaps with a little bit of love between us.
Without this fuse, I would not have raised this subject, and perhaps we are still silently together.
Does she think everything’s back to normal?
I turned on the computer, there was another camera in her bedside alarm.
In the drawer, the key I got. It’s still there.
She probably thinks that breaking up means leaving me.
I went to her with the key. She threw the broken cat camera.
She’s an unprepared girl.
I watched her bring him back on the computer video.
The man was thinner, divorced, and I didn’t know if it worked.
He was like a hungry leopard in that bed where we lay, eating her madly.
The girl I’ve been protecting for so long.
Later, I felt that watching the video was not enough to satisfy my peeping desire.
I’ll sneak into her house in the evening and hide under her bed when she’s not back.
I figured out his pattern. He’ll be here on Friday.
I was lying under the bed, listening to the shaking.
One night he came to eat and left.
I didn’t wait for their pleasure.
I want to wait until she’s asleep.
She was lying in bed and turned around and finally quiet.
I crawled out of the bed and didn’t touch anything.
When I get to the door.
Her voice came from behind.
“I know you’re under my bed. I’m sorry.
In the dark, I seem to see her smiling.
□ Kiyuki Kobayashi, a young girl with gas: YXA1RBzQ8hYDZ58AzCM1Mb
I don’t know.
Keep your eyes on the road.
