I would like to be a bride every day. There is only one bridegroom.

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Before getting married, a woman thinks most about whether she loves him or not; after getting married, she thinks most about whether she is loved or not. 

It can also be said that before marriage, women value their feelings; after marriage, they value each other's feelings, sense of security. 

This is like someone depositing decades of savings in a bank that makes them fall in love. Once the money is sent to the bank, it often turns into worry about whether the money can maintain or even increase its value. 

Where does a sense of security come from? 

It takes a lot of effort. 

Every word and deed of a man is a ready-made "known condition". The right to talk about the experience in online books and magazines is "axiom" and "theorem", and the rest is difficult to prove. 

At that time, there were endless verification questions in the school, and I don't know how many students were worried. Now, many women who come out of school and step into their homes not only enjoy it but also enjoy it. 

I have helped a lot of people to verify it, and they all trust me. 

Get together and wait for me to conclude enumerating the rights and wrongs of marriage. 

The derivation is often dizzy, but the general conclusion is gratifying: "he still loves you, but you haven't found that the love after the marriage has changed." 

A very beautiful woman once clung to my hand and said, "really?" 

Are you telling the truth? " 

I said, "Yes." 

She let go of my hand and smiled, "it's a good thing it is, or I'll die for him." 

I was surprised: "apart from being loved by him, you have nothing more?" 

"I live because of love, and I will die because there is no love." 

I'm speechless. 

I think of one of my country girlfriends before I went to college. Not long ago, I received a greeting card from her from the countryside. The card was made of hard paper. The message was very unique: I would like to be a bride every day, and there is only one bridegroom. 

She had been married for months. 

Later, when I made a special trip to the countryside to see her, she still wore two long black braids, fed the pigs and chatted with me, then wiped her hands and took out a carefully tailor-made book with a small bud on the cover. 

I know what it is, and it's strange: "you still write poems?" 

"if you can't be a poet, can't you be an amateur poet?" 

"I think it's better this way." 

We talked extensively all day, including the future study plan, the farming plan for next spring, and even the name of the fetus. 

Because of her happiness, I am also quite happy. 

In the evening, her husband was "invited" to go back to his parents' house. I quietly asked, "do you be a bride every day?" 

She smiled: "not today." 

I envy her very much, not that happiness, but that calm and self-confidence. 

From this small village woman, I understand that a woman's love is a proof that does not need to be verified. 

Its strong fragrance will eventually fade. 

However, gentle and intelligent women know how to implant it into their hearts and know how to irrigate it calmly and meticulously with their own life. 

This kind of love, always fresh, really does not need any proof.