share time: 2025-10-13 00:33:08
Lin Xiaoman spent three years molding herself into her boyfriend Chen Mo’s “ideal type”—his iced Americano must have double espresso, warm bone soup is always ready for his late-night overtime, and she even gave up her chance to study design in Beijing for him. But when she clutched the concert tickets she’d saved half a year to buy, only to walk in on Chen Mo embracing his first love, she finally understood: what she’d been pouring all her effort into was never his heart, but her own delusional fantasy of “being loved”. Those late-night companionships and thoughtful compromises were just his politeness towards “suitability”, not the passion for a “lover”; the scarves she knitted through sleepless nights and the sneakers she saved up for were just cycles of her “self-imposed touching”. Until the moment she turned around with her suitcase, the man who had never said “I love you” suddenly had red eyes—turns out, her “unspeakable” was suppressed deep affection, and his “unspeakable” was unacknowledged attraction?
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