Love is like an onion short essay

(In the evening, a man stood in the kitchen on the ninth floor, holding an onion and weeping in a daze. He finally knew that true love is like an onion: Peel it off piece by piece, and there will always be one that can make you burst into tears...)

After getting married, she kept making onions for him to eat: shredded onion pork, braised fish with onions, shredded mushroom and onion soup, and onion eggs. The box... Because it was the first time she went to his house, his mother held her hand and told her kindly that although he had never been picky about food, his favorite food since he was a child was onions.

She is a librarian and has enough time to make a fragrant onion side dish, but he always makes it bland. His mother has been a widow for him for nearly 20 years, but the mother of the woman he is madly in love with does not like her. His choice of her is not so much love as the fulfillment of his filial piety.

She didn't seem to notice anything. Lily ran the house quietly and took good care of his mother. In the fourth year of their marriage, they had a well-behaved and lovely daughter.

The smooth days pass by like a copy machine, and the torture that hurts people is dulled. The heart that shed tears and bleeds at the beginning has become scabbed day by day, but the scars are still there, faintly, and sometimes they are still beating there when I wake up in the middle of the night.

That day he went to Beijing to hold an academic conference and met his first love, Xiaoyu, and his dead love came to life like a spark of calcium carbide. Embracing the Great Wall and holding the Forbidden City in hand, youthful passion rekindled a pair of bitter lovers who are no longer young.

Xiaoyu is rounded and elegant, with more charm than her youth, and her fingers are as smooth and delicate as jade green onions. At the foot of Xiangshan Mountain, he bought her the roasted sweet potatoes that she loved to eat back then. She coquettishly asked him to peel it open and feed it into her mouth, because her hands were afraid of burning. The seven days passed quickly and he went home. He remembered her charming smile, her fondness for drinking coffee with a silver spoon, and her fondness for tiramisu, a dessert he had never tasted before.

His mother has passed away, and he doesn’t want to be too harsh on himself. Every year he goes to Beijing in the name of meetings or official business. When his wife's work organized a trip, he even let Xiaoyu come to his home. His mobile phone was once filled with hot love words, and even their photo was forgotten in the pocket of his jacket for more than a week...but all of this was luckily not discovered.

A sudden storm broke out. My wife was suddenly diagnosed with ovarian cancer, which was already in the advanced stage. After being admitted to the hospital, her daughter had to take care of three meals a day while going to school, piles of clothes needed to be washed, and the house was in a mess. That time when he was looking for recipes at home, he found a hard-cover notebook with a buckle in the drawer. Opening it, there were actually a few long dark red hairs inside. My wife has always had short hair close to her ears, ever since she got married. He looked at it curiously, and it turned out that these were left behind after he and Xiaoyu fell in love, and those photos. His wife had always known about them because she never let his dirty clothes stay overnight. Everything he did behind his wife's back, her wife was like a mirror, but she pretended not to see it. There is this sentence written on almost every page: I believe he loves me in his heart. Followed by several big exclamation marks.

He went to the hospital with an empty heart, held his wife's roughened hand, and asked her what she wanted to eat. The wife smiled and said, "What kind of food do you know how to cook? Go buy me a duck blood powder soup." She prepared his favorite onions every day, ironed the shirt he wore the next day, and waited for him at home. For more than 20 years, he never knew that she loved duck blood powder soup when she grew up in the south.

After his wife left, he stood in the kitchen as if lost in thought, making himself a dish of shredded pork with onions. He followed her instructions and put the onions in the water, then peeled them off piece by piece. His eyes were still so hot that they shed tears. When he was about to cut into thin strips on the chopping board, his eyes couldn't open and tears streamed down his face. He had never known that the process of making such fragrant onion soup was so difficult and bitter. For more than 7,000 days, my wife has endured the spicy food and made a serving of shredded onions for herself, just because he has liked to eat it since he was a child.

As for Xiaoyu’s well-maintained hands, she is only willing to go to a Western restaurant to grab a spoon and eat a portion of tiramisu. And back then, his mother had a clear understanding of the peace and happiness that his wife could give him. In the evening, a man stood in the kitchen on the ninth floor, holding an onion and weeping in a daze. He finally knew that true love is like an onion: peel it off piece by piece, and there will always be one that can make you burst into tears...