What love looks like

The best journey in life is for us to remember what love looks like.

One

When I was bored at the weekend, I opened my dad's WeChat circle of friends and swiped it aimlessly.

In the years 20, 18, 16, and 14, a dynamic appeared in front of me. The photo is an A4 paper cut into a ...... "crown" bar. The protruding corners were painted all over with a dark green watercolor pen, and the empty white in the middle was written in rows with the same color pen. The low pixels caused me to squint and stare for half a day, but I could only recognize the word "happy".

"What's this? It looks ugly, Pops?"

Dad was leaning over the couch, cutting my nails.

When my nails were cut and bounced to the floor with a slight "click", he took the time to look up from his phone when he heard my words, and then lowered his head to concentrate on my fast-growing fingernails. It seems like a few perfunctory words, and before you can hear them clearly, he shut up.

A broken nail fell into Dad's arm, originally only to reach out and brush it away, stepping on the edge of the sofa's foot did not stabilize, together with Dad fell on all fours, the noise was so great that it scared away the sparrows resting on the security fence.

"What's wrong with you, you little brat?

"I didn't do it on purpose!" I wanted to laugh when I saw my dad grimacing from the fall, but I didn't dare.

Two

Oh, crap, crap.

It was a hot, muggy afternoon, like "Black Friday" in anime. The manic heat was wrapped around the unbearable report card, spicing up my eyes and clogging up my throat with foul air. I couldn't speak, and it seemed difficult to breathe. The second place in the class, the twenty-fourth place in the school - these words, slightly hyphenated, were wet with the salty liquid. I couldn't care less about the sweat or the tears, I was just sad that it was so far from the result I wanted.

The scene of last weekend's promise to my parents played on a loop in my head, and tears fell fiercely.

It's like an autumn rain that won't stop, making all the flowers drop their petals and lose their color.

The last few classes of the afternoon and the embarrassment of being gawked at by various eyes of classmates. I walked out of the school with heavy steps, forgetting to say goodbye to my teachers and classmates, and forgetting to say a polite word to my aunt who picked me up. I finally understood the lyrics of the song "The cold, icy rain is slapping my face randomly", it's not my face it's my heart.

The joke that my grades played on me was not that funny.

When I got home, my depression escalated.

Three

"Tell me, what's going on this time?"

Dad's gentle sigh was caught by me, looking haggard from a long day at work with red bloodshot eyes visible. The rustle of Mom knitting a sweater in the living room made the quiet room even quieter. Tears slowly welled up in my eyes, and I could no longer see the exhaustion on my dad's face and the disappointment under his eyes. I mentally blamed myself, my clumsiness, and my unconsciousness.

"......"

Open your mouth, can't make a sound, don't know what to say.

Dad did not continue to ask questions, and as my tears slid down my cheeks, he stepped forward and hugged me. The father's embrace is very solid and warm, the father is a little short, very thin, but the shoulders are wide, my tears fell on it, dried by love. This is good, with a simple hug, the flower will regain the courage to bloom, even if the storm is still there, the flower will still bloom as expected.

"Your future is still uncertain, you still have infinite possibilities, you can have a very different life from your parents."

The calloused hand caressed me as I cried out in pain, my father's words were like a ray of sunshine, a ray of sunshine that could make the rain stop and the flowers bloom, shining on my small heart that seemed to have a band-aid on it.

"I just want you to be happy." Dad's last murmur was as gentle as spring.

Four

Later, I finally learned that the photo that I had spat out as ugly was a Father's Day gift he had given him when I was young. My father has been on phone can not be deleted, that is his beloved baby.

The journey of life is long, the flowers are thankful, and the rain falls and stops.

The actual "love look" is perhaps the wordless look of the old man when he saved the photo of his daughter's tender and ugly gift, the look of the old man when he gave his daughter a fingernail cut, the look of the old man when he gently caressed his daughter's sorrow, the look of tenderness.