Love is kindness, love is patient.

     Love is kindness, patience, and forbearance.

    Divorce is becoming increasingly easy these days, but precisely because of this, upholding a marriage requires rationality, tolerance, and wisdom.

    During that period, she was at a low point in her marriage. Her husband was always out early and back late, and his career showed no signs of improvement. Their relationship was like tea that had been steeped several times—bland and tasteless. Returning from business trips no longer brought gifts, hugs, or joy, but rather the calm of an old married couple…

    When she confided her marital troubles, her friends, having been through similar experiences, analyzed her stagnant marriage and concluded that such a marriage should have ended long ago.

    After venting to her friends, she walked home with firm steps. Back home, looking at her unchanging, somewhat simple and shabby house, she suddenly felt an indescribable sense of disgust. Her child had spilled milk all over the floor, and she frantically mopped it up. Seeing the mess, she was busy making dinner when the phone rang; he would be home late again.

    In despair, she accidentally grabbed the exposed handle of the pot, instantly burning her hand with a large blister. The wooden handle had long since fallen off, leaving only a blackened metal handle that was prone to burning. She had told him at least fifty times, but he never had time to fix it.

    Since she had considered divorce, every incident at home had only strengthened her resolve.

    She angrily turned off the stove, walked out of the kitchen, and looked at her once bright and cheerful eyes in the mirror, now filled with resentment and dullness. She sighed, "Marriage is truly terrifying. I must abandon this half-dead life and leave this stagnant place."

    Two hours later, he returned. Seeing that dinner wasn't on the table as usual, she sat alone in the darkness, her gaze resolute. "Why isn't there any food?" he said, walking into the kitchen. "

    Why should I cook? I've had enough. I don't want to do it anymore. I've had enough of this life. Let's get a divorce."

    Her husband was now vigorously scrubbing a pot that shouldn't have been sticking to the bottom. His first reaction was, "What did you say? I didn't hear you." His second reaction was, "Did I hear you wrong? Say it again." Finally, when he understood her intentions, their son cried. He had no choice but to put her emotional issues aside and rush into the room to feed their son milk.

    "Weren't we doing well? Why do you want a divorce?" He came out, holding the child, looking surprised.

    She looked at him with a cold smile, a sense of vengeful pleasure rising within her. He had been carelessly ignoring her feelings, but now it was his turn to suffer!

    "Of course you think you're doing well, but I don't, and I don't want to go on like this anymore."

    That night, she insisted on sleeping in a separate bed. According to her girlfriends' experiences, divorce is an extremely complicated matter, entangled with many factors such as emotions, property, and habits, so it requires perseverance.

    To ensure a smooth divorce, she had already planned three steps: First, she would never buy groceries or cook again, separating the two of them from each other in daily life; second, she would never accompany him for walks or to bed, not giving him a chance to reconcile; third, they would separate financially.

    Lying on the sofa bed, unable to sleep alone, she turned on the lamp, found a piece of white paper, and began to write a divorce agreement. As she put pen to paper, she took stock of their assets, and memories of the past vaguely surfaced: she was from the north, he from the south, they had drifted to this city, started from scratch, and now, over thirty, they owned two houses, one large and one small. The large one was a three-bedroom apartment, which they had moved into at the beginning of last year; the smaller one was bought with their combined savings when they first arrived, both in her name, and now rented out for 600 yuan a month. Her husband also owned two shops, worth approximately 300,000 yuan.

    She clearly wrote in the divorce agreement: the houses and children would be mine, the shops his—fair and reasonable.

    The next day, when she handed him the divorce agreement, she left a note on the dining table: I want my freedom!

    "Sign it! Divorce, do you understand?" Seeing his dazed expression, she became a little irritated, but then realized she had gone too far. She changed to a more persuasive tone, saying, "We haven't been married for very long, but we've been together for five or six years, haven't we? After all this time, can't you see that we're actually from two different worlds? Separating is better for both of us."

    A week later, he called her office: "I agree to sign it. Let's go out for lunch this afternoon. We'll meet at our usual place. I'll give you the agreement." His voice was low and sad. After he hung up, she was still slumped in her chair, holding the receiver, lost in thought.

    He agreed to a divorce. The pent-up frustration in her chest vanished in an instant, leaving a feeling of emptiness, like the inner energy in a martial arts novel, a long, flowing stream that slowly circulated throughout her body. She sat in the chair, feeling her body rise and fall, her mind involuntarily flashing back to past scenes: only one thought remained: without this man, she wouldn't be who she was today—

    she loved the seaside scenery, and he gave up his rising career to come to the seaside city with her to start over; she dreamed of a house by the sea, and he did everything he could to take out a loan to buy her this house where she could see the boundless sea view just by drawing back the curtains.

    After work, she forced herself to go to her usual seaside restaurant. He seemed much thinner than she'd seen in a few days, but his posture was upright, his eyes melancholic and serene, and his clean-shaven chin looked sexy.

    Her husband silently pushed a brown paper envelope in front of her. Before she even sat down, her eyes reddened. Was she really leaving this man forever? She suddenly panicked; was she really going to lose him like this?

    “Since we’re here, there’s no rush. Let’s order something to eat first.” Perhaps because this was their last supper, he smiled at her, his eyes clear and gentle. Then, he extended his slender fingers and beckoned to the waiter, “A black pepper beef rice and a clam chowder.” Both were her favorites.

    She sat silently until he suddenly said to her, “For our last supper, could you order me something I like?”

    “What you like?” She was taken aback, her mind suddenly blank. After searching for a moment, she stammered, “What you like? Don’t you always eat the same things as me?”

    He smiled patiently, then said, word by word, “Actually, after living together for so many years, I’ve always eaten things I don’t like. You forgot, I’m from Suzhou, and I actually really like Jiangnan cuisine, the kind that’s a little sweet.” Hearing his words

    , she felt as if she were being overwhelmed by a stormy sea of ​​self-reproach. Yes, for so many years, she had never thought to ask him what he liked to eat, and the first time she learned that he liked sweet things, they were about to get a divorce. It was undeniably ironic.

    "Say something, okay?" he asked gently.

    Tears welled in her eyes.

    "I've thought it through. The house, the shop, everything in the house is yours!" He was silent for a long time, then suddenly said, "I'll only take my books and a few sets of clothes."

    "Where are you going?" Hearing this heartbreaking farewell, she couldn't help but cry out. Nearly two thousand days and nights, skin to skin, the warmth under the moon, eyes locked in unspoken understanding, shared habits—surely there was love between them? After all these years, she had never truly imagined life without this man.

    “Actually, during these years in Dalian, my parents and friends have repeatedly urged me to return to the South, saying there are greater opportunities for development there. But you love the sea, you love romance, so I've stayed with you, breathing the fishy sea breeze here, eating seafood I don't particularly like, without achieving much in my career, which has caused you distress.”

    “What are you talking about? I'm not referring to that.” Tears streamed down her face.

    “After the divorce, I'll be going to the South to develop my career. I'll be living alone with the child, and it will be very hard for you.” He frowned, took out a cigarette, and paused. “So I'm leaving everything to you. The shop can still generate some rent each year; save it, don't spend it recklessly, just in case. The child's schooling will also require a lot of money; I'll figure out a way then.” As he spoke, his eyes looked out the window, a hint of reluctance, and lingering worry and pain in them. His tone didn't sound like that of a man preparing for a divorce, but rather like that of a parent about to embark on a long journey, filled with reluctance and worry for his wife and child.

    Outside the window was a clear blue sky, a pristine sea, and white waterbirds—everything was heavenly in its beauty and tranquility. But suddenly, all of this paled in comparison, because the man who had promised to stay by her side forever was about to leave.

    "What will you do then?" she asked. "I always have my own way. Men always find a way to survive in this world, unlike women. You're so trusting, so kind, and so easily hurt." Looking into his eyes, filled with pity, her tears streamed down her face.

    "Don't cry, darling." His large hand rested on her shoulder, carrying a faint scent of tobacco—so familiar. How she loved that strength in him, that smell of tobacco, yet why couldn't she feel it when they were together? Instead, she only felt annoyance.

    "I have to go too. You know, every time you reunite with your parents and sisters, my heart feels empty. I miss my parents too; they're getting old."

    Hearing this, her heart overflowed with emotion, self-reproach, and above all, a new kind of love and reluctance to part. What a wonderful man he was! She had witnessed countless divorces where couples turned against each other, fighting over property, hurling insults and curses at one another; but she had never seen a divorce like this, such a tender, profound, and forgiving farewell ceremony… a parting filled with blessings, sadness, and lingering affection. And only at the very last moment did she learn that all the unpleasantness and discomfort he had endured in the marriage were because of her.

    “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” she cried, tears welling in her eyes, tightly gripping his large hand, forgetting all pride and self-respect.

    “Because I love you. I’m willing to endure all of this. I want you to be happy and not let these trivial matters bother you.” She was stunned again.

    After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “Can you… not leave?”

    Finally, she walked out hand in hand with him. The sea breeze outside was very cool. She sat on the back of his motorcycle on the way home, her long hair flowing, looking at the brightly lit streets along the way, thinking of her warm home nestled by the mountains and the sea, the home he had built with his own hands, and suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of happiness. A

    passage

    in the Bible, a simple yet profound interpretation of love, captures its true meaning: Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. We all desire this kind of love, yet we often fail to see it when we truly encounter it. If you encounter it, cherish it, okay?