{% meting "31654343" "netease" "song" "loop:none"%} I bought a tube of Yunnan Baiyao "Fresh Morning Dew" toothpaste.

When I first smelled it, I felt it was very familiar, but I couldn't recall the source of that familiarity. It's not a scent easily described like strawberry or watermelon, and taste is not something that is particularly easy to express.

It's like suddenly thinking of a lyric but not being able to remember the song title or how it's sung; I just had to find it. So I brought the toothpaste to her, thinking that if it had to do with childhood memories, she might remember. Unfortunately, she said she had no impression of this scent.

Actually, even now, I still don't know why I find this scent familiar, but because of that sense of familiarity, I've kept using this toothpaste.

Long ago, probably the first time I clearly felt that I liked a girl, I vaguely felt that my way of liking someone was different from others. At that time, I attributed this vague difference to my immaturity. I also hoped that I would finally start a passionate relationship like those in novels.

Strangely, as I grew older, this sense of difference became clearer. This feeling is like the "Fresh Morning Dew"; I know it exists, but I don't know how to concisely tell others about this sense of something being "off." It's like a family meeting around the sofa after dinner—hundreds of thoughts spinning in my mind, yet feeling that no matter how I say it, it doesn't sound right.

Thanks to this, my relationships to this day have been a mess.

I have been troubled by this for a long time. Whenever I feel something is wrong in a relationship, I always get this answer:

It means you don't love her enough.

I don't think that's the problem, but I don't know how to express the dissonance in my heart.

Of course, it's usually only good friends who would say this to me without hesitation. But I don't think I'm someone who doesn't know what the emotion of love looks like.

Liking, being together, love, marriage. Your life and my life eventually become our life.

I'm very curious why no one else feels that this is wrong like I do. As if completing some ritual, two people who were once clearly distinct can recklessly interfere with each other's lives just because of the phrase "Let's be together."

So-called "I love you" means that from this moment on, you have the power to hurt me.

Perhaps it's because I'm too self-centered, but I feel this is wrong. I initially thought that dating meant: I think you're a good person, and I think you think I'm a good person, let's hang out together. But after trying it, I discovered that dating is actually compromise and dissatisfaction.

I also feel this is wrong. It's as if in a romantic relationship, the dominant force isn't the two people involved, but love itself.

When I typed these words, I suddenly felt I was being too arrogant. When someone else sees this, there will be another person telling me that it's because I haven't met the "right one" yet, and that I'll understand once I do.

I liked someone for a long time.

When I liked her the most, I felt I would never get tired of her smile; I thought she was too cute when she was deciding whether to choose red or blue ice cream; I felt I would agree to all her requests without hesitation when she was teary-eyed.

However, I never felt that I wouldn't be able to go on in the days without her. If I couldn't go on without her, what right would I have to like her?

We are all phototropic creatures, easily drifting toward the path of least resistance, easily indulging in gentleness. Love easily makes people inflated, dissatisfied, and forgetful of the days without love.

Dissatisfaction breeds promises; insecurity breeds suspicion.

Perhaps love is just a parasite that feeds on dependency. It sprouts where there is dependency and gradually replaces rationality itself. In the end, it either thrives in mutual support and reliance, or starves to death in suspicion.

Feeling lonely means love is hungry; wanting to show off affection means love is propagating...

Under normal circumstances, I am a difficult person. If we go out to eat together, I am the one who says "whatever" while rejecting every suggestion. Essentially, I still don't know what I want, but when faced with a situation, I clearly know what I don't want.

In the end, I still haven't met the right person. I'll understand when I do.

That's why I don't get it.