Buddha said that all encounters in this life are reunions in the previous life. Staying together is a story about the past life, a connection between the soul, a dependence between the soul, and a pity between each other. Being separated is to resolve the grievances of the past life, to entrust expectations to the next life, to send your heart to the flowing clouds, to seal your love with memories, just to expose a trace of light in the next life, and to renew the previous relationship with the cycle of lovesickness.
In late autumn, looking at the bare branches of the courtyard, there were one or two yellow leaves, and they were still soaked in the wind, reluctantly in the autumn sorrow, making the quiet courtyard scattered all over the ground, and also letting me wander in the words, piled up with sorrow and sadness.
Sometimes I wonder whether longing has become a habit. When I think about it inadvertently, thinking about it when I am lonely. This feeling sometimes makes people unable to distinguish between imagination and reality. Sometimes I am still used to sticking to this feeling, making me forget the existence of loneliness for a moment, forget the troubles of the hustle and bustle of the world, and just want my children to have a bitter or sweet relationship. Maybe this is that longing has its unique charm.
Missing is sometimes very fresh, turning desolate into prosperity, and loneliness into beauty. With the boldness and delicacy of thoughts, I can’t help but be moved by the past, and then think about the true meaning of love and life. It’s just a memory that has been warmed by longing, and occasionally I will feel a little sad when I read it. If there is a next life, if there is reincarnation, I would like to carry my sadness for the rest of my life, put my hands together, pray in front of the Buddha, and let us meet at the right time and place in the next life, and never leave us forever.
