邢雅晨【爱的时差】-源来如此啊

邢雅晨【爱的时差】-源来如此啊

邢雅晨放假回家,公众号也没再写,反正写了也是都是流水账,越不写越没有底气,越写呢又越糟糕。虽然是这个公众号关注人少之又少,但是总归写起来没有像写邮件那么随意,收到我邮件的朋友都知道我的邮件风格,随时随地开小差。可是公众号的想啊,写什么,结构是什么,内容覆盖哪些,要表达什么,生生把别人口中的散文当成一篇论文来写,可想而知我的痛苦了,但总归比写论文还是轻松很多的,作为消磨时间以及记录生活的工具还是可以的。

说到假期呢,我的假期很短又很长,短到还没有感觉到在家呆几天就来到了学校,但又很长,背负着对于知识的渴求在家享受着美滋滋的生活。一日两万步三顿饭四集电视剧,早七晚十,赏花摘果,和爸爸妈妈在一起的退休生活让我乐不思蜀了。而问题就来了,早上起床了,三石兄还在睡觉,我运动完了他开始学习了,我中午开始吃饭了他要午休了,下午我午休了他又开始学习了,晚上他终于有时间了我睡着了,好想掐着时间点似的,总有时差。据统计,说的最多的是早和晚安,以及中午吃啥啊,些许无奈,谁让我在家那觉就多的很呢,应该是谁让三石兄热爱学习呢。

由于家里的生活太过滋润,于是我一而再再而三的推迟上学时间,终于是负罪感让我来到了学校,获取知识的滋润。你以为都在学校的我们就没有时差了,哎,早饭时间聊会,他还没起,午饭时间聊会,他已经睡了,晚上睡前聊会,被老师盯着在教研室呢,呜呜呜,于是熬夜成为常态,身体不知道,眼睛反正是大不如从前了。但还好,我可以迁就你熬夜聊天,你可以陪伴我偶尔出去散心,总的时差也只是几小时而已,而且努力总会克服的,那心里的时差还是越来越短了呢。

心有灵犀的情侣尚且如此,对朋友也是,担心他们在忙,担心自己的打扰,担心许就不联系的生疏,即使联系了,工作忙,学习忙,能抽出来见面促膝相谈的机会又有多少呢,时差是不是更大了。和晓娜在一个学校还需要预约一下,一周起码吃上一顿饭聊聊,和外省工作的朋友则只能微信隔着几周聊一次,大家都有了自己的生活,新的圈子。那和朋友的时差是不是就得按周按月计算了,但是还好有不嫌弃我的朋友愿意看我的邮件,回我的微信,接我的电话和我分享各种各样的生活,那时差就也不大啦。

几米有一本的漫画书是《向左走,向右走》,故事中的女孩总是习惯出门向左走,而住在同一栋楼的男孩总是习惯向右走,于是两人从不曾相遇。但是人生总有许多巧合,两条平行线总会有交汇的一天,但是匆匆遇到之后的匆匆离开,剩下的只是受一串被雨水打湿的模糊不清的电话号码,握在手里的风筝也会断了线,于是渐行渐远。人的一生有很多相遇,有很多分离,更有很多意外,每一个分岔路路口,不管是好是坏,都是当初最好的选择,不后悔。与我们走失的那些人都是和我们时差越来越大的人,不管是故事中的向左走向右走这样的习惯,还是人生不可克服的各种因素,只能遥祝幸福。

愿有情人终成眷属,愿你在尘世获得幸福,愿爱的时差为零,愿你懂。
附一首波兰女诗人写的诗
Love at First Sight They're both convinced that a sudden passion joined them. Such certainty is beautiful, but uncertainty is more beautiful still. Since they'd never met before, they're sure that there'd been nothing between them. But what's the word from the streets, staircases, hallways -- perhaps they've passed each other a million times? I want to ask them if they don't remember -- a moment face to face in some revolving door? perhaps a "sorry" muttered in a crowd? a curt "wrong number" caught in the receiver? but I know the answer. No, they don't remember They'd be amazed to hear that Chance has been toying with them now for years. Not quite ready yet to become their Destiny, it pushed them close, drove them apart, it barred their path, stifling a laugh, and then leaped aside. There were signs and signals, even if they couldn't read them yet. Perhaps three years ago or just last Tuesday a certain leaf fluttered from one shoulder to another? Something was dropped and then picked up. Who knows, maybe the ball that vanished into childhood's thicket? There were doorknobs and doorbells where one touch had covered another beforehand. Suitcases checked and standing side by side. One night, perhaps, the same dream, grown hazy by morning. Every beginning is only a sequel, after all, and the book of events is always open halfway through.

2019-04-15 | 热度 403℃ 全部文章 | Tags: