writing coffee

"Xiaoshi, hurry up and guess what gift Mom has prepared for you!"

"Will you tell me if you guessed right?"

"Of course not! It won't be revealed until my birthday."

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

"You're not cute at all, Xiaoshi, it's boring!"

I rolled my eyes at the screen and thought of a question: "Why are you telling me about the gift now?" My birthday is half a month away.

"Xiaoshi~" The person in the video laughed, and I guessed it right away.

"Aren't you coming back for the New Year?"

"It's all Brian's fault!" She accused aggressively, "He was assigned by the company to take charge of a new project in Eastern Europe. He will leave at the end of the month and may stay there for more than a month..." Finally, she blinked and made a pathetic expression Look, "Mama will come back to spend the Spring Festival with you when the time comes, okay?"

Bryan also appeared in the camera "at the right time", "Sorry little poem baby~ it's all Bryan's fault, for the sake of his love for you so much, can you forgive him?"

I really can't stand the way international friends express their love... Although I don't like it, although this will be the first time that my mother will not be with me on my birthday, but what can I say?

"Uh uh uh." I reluctantly replied, in exchange for two kisses across the screen.

"Can the gift be revealed first?" There must be some compensation.

"No!" The man insisted inexplicably, "I will send it to your father, and he will hand it over to you on your birthday!"

"You are so mysterious now, when the time comes, the more I hope, the more I will be disappointed. You will be very embarrassed, Mom." I kindly reminded her.

"Impossible, mother still has this bit of confidence, you will definitely like it!" She nodded affirmatively, and emphasized again, "I like it so much~"

I really don't know where the confidence comes from, and I don't bother to ask, anyway, I will know when the time comes.

Bryan left the camera, and our mother and daughter chatted for a long time across the screen.

It was the weekend, and I was the only one in the dormitory, and I had developed the habit of going home only once a month or even longer.Although my father never gave up on "correcting" my sexual orientation, he never really hurt me. He was always a gentle person.Yet a gulf had opened between us, between his happy family and my eccentricity, an insurmountable gulf.

At that time, I was still young and didn't know the real loss. My attachment to my mother hadn't been hidden in my heart, but it was superficial and always expressed in words and deeds.

"Then can't you come back early? Spend Christmas with me?" I asked.

She must have heard the pleading in my tone, so she didn't even think about it, and quickly replied: "Okay, mom will book a plane ticket tomorrow~" Looking at my expression, I was so spoiled that I was embarrassed.

I hung up the call first, full of anticipation, thinking that I must learn the simplest Christmas song anyway, and play it to her when the time comes.

I really learned and learned.

I took down the acoustic guitar from the wall and plucked the strings lightly. Its sound is as always, empty and cold, like a quiet spring flowing through the silent years, winding to my eyes at this moment.

I walked out of the bedroom with the guitar, opened the door of the guest room, and the warm winter sun slanted in through the window, stretching the memories in the room for a long, long time.

The house I live in now was a coming-of-age gift from my mother.Before I left my father, I only lived here with my mother when she returned home.The largest bedroom has always been mine, and she always sleeps with me when she comes back by herself, and it's the room opposite the study when Brian comes back together.

Here, the mother's breath has long since dissipated, and there are not many things left behind.There are two sets of pajamas in the closet, a suspender skirt for summer, and a set of off-white pajamas for winter—she wanted to buy pink ones, but I turned them down to the current color, huh.

There is a jewelry box in the cabinet next to the bed, and there is a pair of earrings in it, which I bought for her, um, she begged me to buy them for her.In fact, I have always thought that the fox eyes inlaid with green crystals are very unsightly, but I can't resist her liking.She also said that it was for me to learn how to make girls happy, tsk, it sounded grand.

On the wall, there is an oil painting, it is that mysterious gift, I really like it very much.I finally understand that her confidence comes from me and I love everything she gives me because I love her as much as she loves me.

Mother... When she died, she was already Brian's wife, so her tombstone was not in this city.I did not attend her funeral.I told my father that this house is her tomb, and here is her tombstone.

Father was terrified.

He took a leave of absence for me and hired a psychiatrist. Except for going to school, he hardly ever left my side.That was when we were the closest, as if we had never had a rift because of my orientation, as if I was still the little princess he was most proud of.

But in fact I am no longer, I am torn between self-punishment and self-redemption, selfish and blind, almost destroying myself and hurting everyone around me.

Once, at night, I had a nightmare, and my father woke me up and coaxed me back to sleep.In the middle of the night, I woke up vaguely again, and heard someone crying softly.I got out of bed and walked barefoot on the floor, it was cold.

Aunt Xin leaned in her father's arms, her shoulders trembling from time to time. Her father hugged her, clenched his fists, and said nothing.

She said, "If something happens to me one day in the future, what should Xiao Zhi do?"

Xiao Zhi is my younger brother, Murong Zhi, who was not yet five years old at that time.When he came up with this name, his father said to Aunt Xin that Xiaoshi originally had a twin brother named Murong Yuan, which means "poetry and distance", so this boy should be called "Murongzhi" and take "Gaoqingyuanzhi" "meaning.

I sat on the ground and recalled what I had done in the past six months like a flashback, which was really absurd.I spread my pain to those around me like a plague, and the way of infection was care and love.

But I can't get better.I can only pretend I'm fine.

So I dropped out of school on my own initiative, I opened a store on my own initiative, I moved here on my own initiative, and threatened that unless he let me walk in the house holding another girl's hand, I would never go back in my life.My father is such a gentle person, I was so angry that I broke the door of the study.

"I'm such a bastard..." I looked at the beautiful woman in the oil painting and murmured softly, but she didn't refute me.Her fingers danced on the black and white keys, and she turned her head to look at the girl who was lying on the piano stand listening to her playing, her gaze was as gentle as water.

I'm so glad she didn't see me asshole.

Of course, the person who painted this picture was not my mother. Compared with her level of painting, her level of painting is hard to describe.

It was her and Brian's home in England, and there was a huge black piano in front of the floor-to-ceiling glass.It was autumn at that time, and she played "Whispers of Autumn". I lay on it and listened to it in a sleepy state, and Brian secretly photographed it.

I never saw Brian again.

I dread seeing him.

I sat on the floor, facing the painting, and stumbled through the song "Merry Christmas".It's strange that I didn't inherit my mother's talent in music at all. It was only through my ears and eyes from a young age that I didn't completely become a music idiot.

I tried to play "Whispers of Autumn" again, and as I played, my tears dripped on the strings, and I fell to pieces.

Time can't heal all pain at all!It just stops the bleeding from those wounds, and then wraps the scars under the intact skin, like rheumatism, in the rainy weather, it is piercing.

Why do you have to be alone at Christmas?I exchanged a selfish thought for the loneliness of every Christmas for the rest of my life.Loneliness is nothing but remorse...the whole world tells me it's no one's fault because they don't know...but I know, only I know, it's my fault...my fault, my Know.

When she left, there were strangers around her... No one held her hand, no one said goodbye to her... She didn't even have a chance to leave a word to this world, she didn't have a chance to tell him that she loved him, and she didn't Chance to hear me say I love her...I even, didn't get to see her for the last time.

I want to throw away the guitar, want to destroy, want to hurt, want to howl...I want to tell her that I miss her so much...Mom...Mom...Xiaoshi is crying, where are you?You comfort her, have you forgiven her?Mother……

mom.

The floor was so cold that I shivered. When I came back to my senses, my sleeves were soaked and cold, and the tears I had accumulated for a year were squandered today.