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爱的旨意散文 1 我再次仔细看了遍手里的车票，默记着，2号车厢5号座位，你 commanded me, entering the station, turning right onto the road. I passed through the厕所 and the乘务员's shift room, then stepped on five号 seat,靠窗, that gives me a special feeling. A long time ago, not going to train anymore, it was so refreshing. A book. A cup of white milk. An apple-sized red apple. It fills my afternoon with some purpose.
A piece of rail, a long journey ahead. The train's window looks foggy, the sun bracts through the tall bays. In the middle of the train, a glass of wine pours out from the passenger seat below me. I sit and drink in this moment. No one else hears, no one else knows that I'm talking to myself. It feels so odd.
2 In my deep sleep, the engine nears me. The train is approaching an off-street station named滁州, surrounded by empty seats. I stretch out my arms and try not to let myself relax in a慵懒's state. A man sat down beside me, looking around at me, his posture relaxed and calm. His face was small, but he seemed serious.
I thought about whether it would be good to see him again on this night. We met in my little garden the night before I saw the sun dip below the horizon. Here, a flower with petals that danced as if they were whispers from another world. It made me feel so alive.
I bought a hardcover book about zero-degree narrative style by a woman who writes "I" and "You." I opened it to the middle of chapter 4. A man was sitting next to me, reading, while I listened intently to his words. He said something, then moved on. He must be thinking deeply.
His eyes were fixed on mine, and my heart swelled with emotions. The sound of the train's whistle broke the silence, and we both looked back at a scene filled with nothing but myself.
The book I bought was about psychological research, written by a woman who writes "I." That was an interesting way to present the content—using the first-person point of view. She described it as: Zero Degree is about women exploring their own feelings through journaling, which is a practice that can help us understand ourselves better.
The night before I went to the station near滁, my friend came by, holding a book of mine. He said: "It was just like this other night," he said, "when we met in your garden." "Think about it, too—when you get lost, when you make a wrong turn, and feel like you never saw the end of the road."
I sat down to read that book. It was as if I were sitting right at the center of an infinite universe filled with nothing but myself. The words seemed to echo in my mind, a steady rhythm that made me feel lighter and brighter.
3 I have always studied psychology, and this book caught my attention because it was about how people make choices based solely on their own desires.
Their question was: "When you sit in a train, looking at someone who seems to be a magnet for your imagination, you are just like me. You want that person or that person's thought and you can't explain it."
Claudine, a test-taker, was one of the first people I saw during this chapter of my studies.
The question was: "Which type of decision control does your mind use?"
A student named Clara studied this carefully and answered "I should get that person who is attracting me."
I felt an ounce of guilt when I read her answer.
But as a non-scholar, I had to rely on what I knew about how people make choices. My research led me to a better understanding of the subject.
"What makes me want to do this is just as much important as what makes me think."
(Sigh.) This seems like a very simple way of life, but it's hard to believe all these things are built into our system.
I sat down in the library and began reading. A woman named Ana sat across from me, leaning on a chair. She had a deep voice that seemed to speak from inside her soul. I listened intently, trying to understand what she was saying. And for every word she said about tea, there was more to it.
Reading this book made me realize how much detail is often hidden in these seemingly simple choices. It's easy to focus on the surface level of a problem or situation, but the deeper truth isn't always immediately apparent.
4 As I sat in that library, the world around me seemed more connected than ever before. The train was moving, and all its movements were captured in the silence of the evening light. My face was close to mine, but my eyes darted through the room as they watched others go away from me.
The music hummed in my ear as I walked toward my seat, five numbers from the train. Once I entered the station where I had already entered, everything seemed so normal and easy.
Claudine answered again: "I should get that person who is attracting me."
(Shrug.) It was hard to believe that all these questions were set up this way.
As I sat in the library, I couldn't help but think of my friend. She had always been so quiet and reserved, a woman who could speak her mind without feeling like I was being too proud to ask about it. And when we met at that bookshop, that person's thoughts brought me back to this train ride.
As the train rolled by, I couldn't stop thinking about how these choices were built into our very own lives. They weren't random or arbitrary—they were designed in a way that made sense to us.
5 I sat on the platform as the train moved away from me. The tracks lined up, and I looked around at my surroundings. It was like watching a painting unfold before me, one painting after another. At some point, I realized that everything was connected in this way.
(Whisper.) That's what love is, isn't it? A connection without words or distance, a seamless blend of emotions and thoughts.
I turned my head to face the train and smiled, my heart swelling with the warmth of these connections. The quiet moments of waiting were filled with gratitude for all that had come before me. Now I can say, "This is love's旨itude."
