Extraordinary Chapter 11
He was not particularly good-looking, at least in the upper middle class of people I had met. The skin is pale, the body is thin and thin, the voice is very light, and the words are always incomplete, and sometimes it takes a little effort to understand the hidden meaning behind those bland words. All in all, he is a child with a rather thin presence. Except for those broken eyes...
They were strange eyes, rather clear and gentle at first sight. However, the clear is forced to precipitate, gentle, is a kind of oppression of injustice.
His personality was also unlikable, distant, indifferent, self-contemptuous, and, well, a bit of funny hypocrisy.
It shouldn't have been noticeable, and if there was beauty, it would have been a morbid beauty at best. Yet the combination of so many imperfections creates a strange, imaginative power that can burrow into the depths of your soul and scratch gently.
Even so, it shouldn't interest me. First of all, he's a boy, and second of all, even in a normal bed mate, I prefer those simple and bright personalities. Life is heavy, and sexual love, as an indispensable supplement, should also be relaxed and comfortable. Oh, of course, this has nothing to do with feelings, because I never think that in my life, it is necessary to happen such meaningless things.
But there he was. When we first met, he surprised me, because I saw his blood. When this common, as other people as red sweet opaque liquid, slowly wet his white sleeve at that moment, I would feel uncomfortable...
He calmly braved a cold sweat, carefully apologized, nervously accepted my kindness to go to the hospital, and then, with his broken eyes, he chased my back greedily... The weak eyes like silk thread, like a pair of hands full of despair and helplessness, timidly extended to me, let people can not bear to leave...
Out of a sense of instinct, I didn't want to get too close to him. A few months later, I happened to pass by the bar street and saw a smoky red face, that face under the night, dense and enchanting atmosphere... Suddenly, I don't want to let this face naked under the ambiguous night sky, which makes me... Unaccountably upset. I went back and asked him to get into the car. He refused at first but finally got in.
Even though I knew that his experience must not be pure, and I knew that he had some kind of affection for me, I still did not think that he would express it in such a straightforward way, oh, he asked me: "Mr. Jane, are you GAY?" His soft and gentle voice line with a weak trill, looking straight into my eyes, a kind of smoke to see the sweet temptation of Mei line, and the fragile sadness before disillusionment, like, poured out the heart of the blooming flower, in the extreme beauty of the desperate death.
I'm not GAY, but his despair and his beauty, at the same time, gave me palpitations... I took him back to the Sun Garden. His manners were always raw and timid, and one can imagine how much courage had been accumulated by that blatant invitation that came out of his mouth. That day, I did not want him, he looked disappointed and relieved, tired from crying, and fell asleep.
When he left in the morning, he was still asleep, his pale brow habitually frowning, locked in a gloomy dream... It is not that I do not want him; last night he was in my arms, and the sweetness of his breath and the softness of his body had succeeded in arousing in me the urge to love him passionately. But his tears and melancholy, that pair of broken, pouring infatuation and trust eyes, but I want to treat him well, at least, to give him sweet love...
Little did I know that moment of tenderness would irrevocably change my life. This strange, weak, stubborn boy, in the long years that followed, gradually assumed such a powerful influence that my reason and principles, which I was so proud of, were utterly vulnerable to retreat.
His satisfied smiling face makes me happy, his attachment eyes let me pity, what happened to him, even a little pain and grievance, will be infinitely amplified in my pain nerves... Such a person can only be destroyed, or, eternal possession, he can no longer as an irrelevant existence, free from my life.
And I would never hurt him, not even on the first day, when he hurt his elbow. Yes, I can't bear it. This inexplicable feeling of pity permeates every moment I spend with him. As if my extortion, turbulent life, just to wait for his appearance, just to him, all the tenderness...
I have met only one such person in my life; In this life, I only wish to love and guard him forever, and build a perfect and happy life for him...
His name is Mu Yao. A long, long time later, when everything was done and the bond had been ingrained, I knew that he was my son. Also finally realized, that will never be able to give up, the unimaginable feeling of pity... The true source.
That kind of pain can not be described, that kind of despair can not be described, like a part of the body is suddenly cut off, and never healed...
He was manic and desperate, with inexplicable grief and anger, and the gentle calm that had been cultivated under my care collapsed again, and he hysterically vented resentment and pain, which was not my feeling... This fateful, inescapable damnation is enough to tear the soul to pieces.
We can not return to the father-son relationship, I to him, he to me, there has never been a father-son consciousness, only the fatal attraction. If forced to get along with the family relationship, he will soon run away, his kind fragile impulsive personality, can not stand the day-to-day in and out of suffering. And I would never tolerate him wandering around alone, whether he was my son or the sad boy with those weak, confused eyes.
Unaware of this, or perhaps habitually evading it, he leaned his head on my lap that day, begging helplessly and sadly not to leave him. His sad eyes and fake relaxed smile made me heartache could not to breathe. His previous life had been destroyed by his bloody mother, and if his future life would continue to sink in this gnawing despair... I'd rather He hates me...
He finally got away, after he knew the truth. I never meant to hide this forever. The truth of blood, there is no hiding, no matter how deep buried, like a sinister reef, will one day surface. All I can do is give him as long a buffer as possible... There are some things, no matter how terrible, that your misfortune must bear. Even before there was a physical relationship, he could not stay away, he would only run away and come back again and again.
We are destined to be entangled with each other, even if it is hurt, it can not be far relative. Like plants joined together at the same root, the flesh and blood are intertwined and inseparable, unless they die at the same time. He promised he wouldn't kill himself again, so I gave him some breathing space. Only by making himself aware of this can he calmly face this inhuman ordeal; To put an end to this chaotic and miserable life; Only then can we completely reverse this unfortunate fate that we were born with.
He is the only person I do not want to use means and skills to rob, I just want to give him a complete, not perfect, not good, even ugly incomplete, normal heart; I just want to give him a sincere and unrepentant love and warmth... However, the nature of the situation, I have to hurt him, in the process of completing the possession, again and again, forcing him to open his clear and warm eyes, and face this naked filth...
This life, he is destined to belong to me, this life, I can not give him freedom... When we first met, the wheel of fate had already begun to turn, unintelligently, quietly, in our ignorance, crushing each other and reuniting...
Only wish, with all my compassion and love, I could slightly make up for the harm that I had to do... It will calm my numb heart a little, and make my heart ache all night, deep guilt...
If I could do it all over again if there was an afterlife...
I only wish to be a loving and gentle father, in his young childhood, carrying him through the streets, listening to all his childish troubles, buying him the sugar gourd he likes to eat, and all the boys' favorite toy models, so that he has sweet laughter, rather than bleak sorrow...
In his youth and young people's life journey, for him to shelter from the wind and rain, painstaking planning, to support his life with a blue sky, so that he can be carefree, and healthy growth...
Then, when I get old, too old to take care of his life, I only wish I could drink with him one evening...
Smiling and listening, from not far away, his wife and his children, happy frolicking...
(Complete book)