眼角的泪是心灵深处的悲哀吗?手中的那束勿忘我,是正凋零还是也在哭泣?世间所有美好的事物是不是都有悲剧的色彩呢?或也许只有悲剧才能永恒?

他和她青梅竹马.他上大学,她也上. 只是不在一个城市.她每天写一封信给他.他只管看,偶尔回一封半封.渐渐的,她的信少了. 他的就更少了. 她嫁给了一个大学同学.他去了她的婚礼.祝福和别人的一样.后来他到美国读书然后工作.她随老公陪读,也来了.他来看她.她问他为什么还不结婚. 他笑了,嘴角一丝苦涩.没人能象你一样,他说.她愕然,为什么你从来不说? 没有真正失去之前,是不懂得什么是值得珍惜的,他的忧郁更加凝重.那为什么现在又要说出来?隐藏在心里不是会更好?你不久就会明白的, 他说.

她收到一个邮包,从未见过的地址:某某律师事务所.她打开...里面是一个盒子.盒子里好多的信,她给他的信.整整齐齐的捆扎着.下面还有一封单独的:

是不是,生气我很少给你回信啊? 我在大学体检时发现患有先天性心脏病.唯一的治疗方法是做心脏移植.可我到大学毕业也没等到...到美国来的原因也是为了有更多治疗的机会...可你收到这封信,证明医生还是救不了我的命...

你的信是我生存下来的支柱,给我多少希望!我多想能再多活一个春天,一个日出,一个...再多看你一次...看你的孩子们出生...长大...

我走了,带着遗憾,又怎能不遗憾啊!多少风光未能领略,多少感觉未能体验...

可也正因为这样,我尝到了别人不能体会的东西...珍惜所拥有的一切,那种想抓住每一刻的美好的渴望!

所以我并不感到遗憾...

从未吻过你,就让我现在吻你...

Have you ever thought about that the person sleeping next to you almost every night is  “the one and the only?" (I see your smile on your face, hehe)  Have you ever doubt that you would probably never be able to find "the one and the only?"

When you see her walking into the room, you had a glimmer of hope that she would be yours.   Or, after years of being friends, you finally realize she is your true love. Well, lucky you! You found "the one". Then what about "the only"? After years of finding and building on love, you are tired and your heart stopped beating so fast for anyone crossed in your life, then you think, well, "the one" probably is" the only"?!

For lucky people, they find each other "the one and the only" at the same time and live a happy life thereafter. Well, how many are they out there? For the most of us, we are struggling with our life and love. The net made by us, caught us. We are feeling lifted, up in the air. Lonely and sadly... Let our youth go without notice and let the gloom grow. The hope in our eyes goes glimmering and is covered by forever lasting stupefaction. And by then we woud probably surrender: “the one and the only” is only a fiction.

in a letter to Antonie Brentano -

" Good morning, on July 7
Though still in bed, my thoughts go out to you, my Immortal Beloved, now and then joyfully, then sadly, waiting to learn whether or not fate will hear us - I can live only wholly with you or not at all - Yes, I am resolved to wander so long away from you until I can fly to your arms and say that I am really at home with you, and can send my soul enwrapped in you into the land of spirits - Yes, unhappily it must be so - You will be the more contained since you know my fidelity to you. No one else can ever possess my heart - never - never - Oh God, why must one be parted from one whom one so loves. And yet my life in V is now a wretched life - Your love makes me at once the happiest and the unhappiest of men - At my age I need a steady, quiet life - can that be so in our connection? My angel, I have just been told that the mailcoach goes every day - therefore I must close at once so that you may receive the letter at once - Be calm, only by a calm consideration of our existence can we achieve our purpose to live together - Be calm - love me - today - yesterday - what tearful longings for you - you - you - my life - my all - farewell. Oh continue to love me - never misjudge the most faithful heart of your beloved.
ever thine
ever mine
ever ours" 

*SOB*

With the closing bell of Beijing olympics and all the sport spirit lingering in the air, I found this little story very touching. A sport is not all about competition, there is something else in it...

"At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves children with learning disabilities, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended.

After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question:

'when not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does, is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do.  He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?' 

 The audience was stilled by the query. The father continued.

 'I believe  that when a child like Shay, who was mentally and physically disabled  comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents  itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.'

Then he told the following story: Shay and I had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, 'Do you think they’ll let me play?' I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but as a father I also understood that if my son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.

 I approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said,'We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.' 

Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted.

In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three.

In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as I waved to him from the stands. 

In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again.  Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat. At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game?

Surprisingly, Shay was  given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.

However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher,  recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact.

The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher. The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game. 

Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, 'Shay, run to first! Run to first!'

Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.

Everyone yelled, 'Run to second, run to second!’ Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball. The smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head.

Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home. All were screaming, 'Shay, Shay, Shay, all the way Shay' Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and  shouted, 'Run to third! Shay, run to third!' As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, 'Shay, run home! Run home!' Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game  for his team

'That day', said the father softly with tears now  rolling down his face, 'the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of  true love and humanity into this world'. Shay didn't make it to  another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making me so happy and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!

AND NOW A LITTLE FOOT NOTE TO THIS STORY:

If you’re thinking about forwarding this message, chances are that you're probably sorting out the people in your address book who aren't the 'appropriate' ones to receive this type of message Well, the person who sent you this believes that we all can make a difference. We all have thousands of opportunities every single day to help realize the 'natural order of things.' So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice:  Do we pass along a little spark of love and humanity or do we pass up those opportunities and leave the world a little bit colder in the process? A wise man once said every society is judged by how it treats it's least fortunate amongst them. May your day, be a Shay Day.

朋友半夜打电话来, 听得出她一身的疲惫, 满面的倦容, 和满心的哀怨…上有老, 下有小, 身边没人疼的她, 靠着自己的努力, 竟从国内做运输的转行到美国当了护士. 这期间的艰辛与坚持,是看着她走过来的…

 “不是有男朋友了吗? 他对你不好吗?”我加着小心地问.

“唉, 我就想问问你, 你说我是对他的要求太高了吗?” 她贯有的口气, 不是对生活的责怪和怨恨,而是一种无奈, 被迫接受现实的无奈…

 我哑然, 是啊, 我们是不是对生活要求得太多了呢? 有了爱, 还要有家; 有了家,还要有房子,孩子,车子; 一切都要有, 一切都要好,爱却在追逐的过程中磨损着…看着那昔日生动的脸上泛着如今黯然的神伤…你是否会问一句, 我们还好吗?

还好吗? 他会给你一个灿烂的笑吗? 一个热切的吻吗? 一个温暖的拥抱吗? 朋友的苦涩,我理解, 但我没有答案给她. 男人是异族部落, 我们的语言不通. 试着告诉她, 多宽容, 多体谅,多从他的角度考虑问题,不要期望过高, 不要抱怨过多…男人喜欢通情达理的女人…听着电话那边的苦笑, 也体会着自己的安慰是多么的空洞和无力…

 是啊, 女人到了三十几岁, 不求什么, 累了,有个肩膀靠靠, 苦了, 有个知心的人倾听, 烦了, 有人给讲开心笑话…这样的要求会是很高吗? 女人三十, 知道什么是知足, 什么该珍惜, 什么该放弃…

 已婚的,离婚的,未婚的…女人三十, 经历多多, 苦恼多多,抱怨也就多多…但这种抱怨,没有了青涩, 没有了稚嫩, 有的多是对男人的失望和不满…是啊, 女人三十 在依然渴望男人的激情爱恋的同时, 也经历着岁月无情的雕刻…希望多听一句赞美, 希望给多一个拥抱, 希望在激情时刻,多一点抚慰… When you kiss me, all I want to know is that you are still in love with me…

 女人三十, 依然美丽…

地震的时候正在圣地亚哥开会. 那里的振幅比洛杉矶小得多, 晃得象我原来的摇床(挂树上的那种). 奇怪的是没有人冲出去,也没有人惊慌. 只是大震的那段过去后,一位老美兄台嘀咕了一句, that was an earthquake…在场各位^* &#%$! 但还是没有人跑.现在想想, 要是接下来一场更大的地震, 我们那一会议室的人怕无一生还…汗!

 急急忙忙开了两个小时的夜车赶回家里,想象着屋里凌乱的样子, 开门的手竟有一丝的颤抖… 进门后,定睛一看, 乐了…一切还是老样子, 只是所有柜子的门都开着…再一看, 我最最心爱的两个瓷瓶, 碎倒在地上…无泪的证明着这里曾有过的震荡…怀着心酸收拾好它们的残片, 一丝的不舍, 放了装着它们的口袋在离通往后院的门不远的地上…之后的几天里,忙碌的我竟忘了它们曾经的存在…

 星期六, 大清扫, 扫掉地震的阴霾, 也整理着我近日烦躁的心绪…看着大大的太阳地, 想起小时候,每当这样的天气,妈妈都会把家里的被子拿出去晒. (不用你提醒我加州的天天阳光普照,我那天就是有一点发神经) 于是乎冲进卧室, 抓起被子就往外提. 路过门口的时候, 一脚踢在什么东东上, 疼痛之余, 回身一看, 我的瓶子们…用它们尖利的残骸, 刺破了我的白线袜, 也刺破了我的肌肤…血一滴大过一滴…

 朋友打电话问, 怎么定好了的,不见你影子啦? 才想起还有过的约, 惨笑着告诉她我的大脚趾在伤心…这个没心肝的竟然乐了…你可是我听说地唯一一起与地震有关的伤亡事件…#$%^&*…出离愤怒了…

 Lesson to learn: if it is broken and can not be repaired, throw it away so it wouldn't hurt you later…想想,感情的事也不还是一样, 破了的, 碎了的, 尽早忘记, 潇洒人生路,就在你忘记的那一刻开始…

爱一个人是一件很美的事情. 她的容貌,她的体态,她的浅笑娇嗔,她的百转柔肠, 她的诗情画意…

也许你只爱她做的饭,她煲的汤,她收拾好的房间,她折叠好的衣服,她临出门前的那一句叮咛…

无论你的爱是狂风暴雨,是涓涓细流; 是夏日烈火, 是温暖如春; 是浪漫,是朴实;是激情难耐, 是苦心守候, 放心大胆的说出来, 不要怕受伤, if you don’t give it a try, you would never know! 打开你的窗帘,让阳光照进来!

 当然, 爱也是一门艺术,也需要技巧. 网上有很多, 我不赘述. 只要你是出之真心, 小小心机, 你的爱人不会怪你,如果她也在爱着你…你为她费心机,她会感谢你...

 还有一句, 如果你不再爱他,或她不再爱你,放她走吧…爱情的字典里不应该有拥有和失去…临别前别忘说一句 ‘和你在一起的时间,我很开心’…

p.s. 献给姐妹们: “他可能不会用你想要的方式来爱你,但不等于他没有用他的全部来爱你”…对爱请不要太挑剔, 如果你爱他,give love another chance…

有人说，嫁给初恋情人的女人最幸福。。。because there is no comparison!

也曾不知天高地厚的对人说，every time I fall in love , it always feels like the first time to me…       

 所以就去和不同的人来谈恋爱。Very different people do not necessarily give you very different experience. 几经波折，几番翻云覆雨，痛过哭过，累了冷了，才知道那在心底里曾经炙热的渴盼和最初的梦想，依然在燃烧着，燃烧着我的岁月，我的青春，我的情感，一切的一切。。。才知道，爱在最初的美好， 和最终的伤感 多是一样的。。。

 才知道，love is the purpose of my life。 Can’t and won’t never give up on love。 ‘Cause I know from the deepest of my heart that there is someone who is made for me. And I need to find him even it may mean that I have to give up all I have. 就算失去所有，又怎样呢？只要有你在, 我就拥有着世界，我的世界！

 信主的妹妹说，神指定的婚姻，人不可分开。你也许会笑我傻，笑我痴，笑我言情小说看多了吧？我也这样笑过我自己。可当爱在不远处闪亮时，我还是会飞蛾扑火 ，义无反顾。。。

 凤凰浴火，才能永生。不死过一次，怎会知道生命的可贵， 不彻彻底底的爱过一场，又怎能说活过一回？

我说，嫁给初恋情人的女人不一定是最幸福。 拥有一生无怨的爱才知道幸福的真正定义。

 众里寻他千百度，蓦然回首那人却在灯火阑珊处,等着我。。。

去年今日此门中,人面桃花相应红.

人面不知何处去,桃花依旧笑春风.

这是我出国前送给我前男友的.他给了我一个淡然的笑,我却早已泪流满面了…他在我出国后一年半结婚…我们之间从未有过承诺…只是他说,当时的他,没想到会想我想到发疯…

 我出来8年了,8年没有回去过…说他是前男友,有一点牵强.当时的我,已婚,爱人在美国;当时的他,有个交往12年的女朋友…在最初的时候,我们就已经了解相爱而不能相守的原因, 都说着只是彼此生命中的插曲…

 也正因如此,我们的爱里没有非要一个结果的执著,没有一定要结合的期盼,更没有要厮守一生的承诺…珍惜着在一起的分分秒秒, 快乐就在彼此依恋的眼波里绵延着…

 也记得他吃醋的憨态, 就为了酒吧里唱歌的哥哥多看了我一眼…笑他情人眼里出西施…心里却蜜一样的甜着…

 最美好的就永远是瞬间…一年几乎朝夕相处的日子里, 也有争吵,也有冷战,也有妥协,也有莫名奇妙的忧伤, 和撕心裂肺的痛楚…才知道,我们真的相爱着…

 爱并痛苦着…他的早恋女友(15岁开始的地地道道的早恋)得了胆结石,都长满了…他知道多是他气的…

 我没的选择, 离开的时候, 加着小心, 不带走一丝的留恋…他来机场送我, 差一点晚了… “去给你买项链了,店关了…” 他的眼里布满了血丝…我笑了, 链子在我心里了,得到和拥有自来都是两回事…

 真的晚了, 机场的广播里喊着我的名字. 连拥抱也来不及,只是手被攥的痛…

 8年是不是短时间, 8年后的你是否依然…你说过, 想你的时候我不该觉得孤独,因为你也一定在想着我…

你是我的花。

 我把我的心血，我的精神，我的希望播洒进你的根，你的苗，你展开你的蕊。 震动着我的心。

你张开你的花瓣，你的笑脸，你的果实， 我的爱。

 没有理由，不用理由，爱是在看见你的第一刻开始的。

 当你还是一粒种子的时候，你的圆润就打动着我.

 把你种在心灵最肥沃的土壤中

 无时无刻的关心，无微不至的照料， 变成一种习惯。

 风也和， 雨也静，我的花始终在绽放， 绽放出一种能量，鼓舞着我

 可是时间，时间泯灭着一切，一切里有我的花， 你不再爱我。。。

 于是，凋谢。。。凋谢了我的花， 冰冷了我的魂。。。

 留下这一首《葬花吟》：

 花开易见，落难寻；阶前愁煞葬花人。。。