A very touching story

>To my married and unmarried friends:
>
>This is a very touching story, please read it slowly, ....
>
>When You Divorce Me, Carry Me Out in Your Arms
>
>
>On my wedding day, I carried my wife in my arms. The bridal car stopped in
>front of our one-room flat. My buddies insisted that I carry her out of
the
>car in my arms. So I carried her into our home. She was then plump and
shy.
>I was a strong and happy bridegroom.
>
>This was the scene ten years ago.
>
>The following days were as simple as a cup of pure water: we had a kid; I
>went into business and tried to make more money. When the assets were
>steadily increasing, the affection between us seemed to ebb. She was a
>civil servant. Every morning we left home together and got home almost at
>the same time. Our kid was studying in a boarding school.
>
>Our marriage life seemed to be enviably happy. But the calm life was more
>likely to be affected by unpredictable changes.
>
>
>Dew came into my life.
>
>It was a sunny day. I stood on a spacious balcony. Dew hugged me from
>behind. My heart once again was immersed in her stream of love. This was
>the apartment I bought for her.
>
>Dew said, you are the kind of man who best draws girls' eyeballs. Her
words
>suddenly reminded me of my wife. When we were just married, my wife said,
>Men like you, once successful, will be very attractive to girls.
>
>Thinking of this, I became somewhat hesitant. I knew I had betrayed my
>wife. But I couldn't help doing so.
>
>I moved Dew's hands aside and said you go to select some furniture, O.K.?
>I've got something to do in the company. Obviously she was unhappy,
because
>I had promised to do it together with her. At the moment, the idea of
>divorce became clearer in my mind although it used to be something
>impossible to me.
>
>However, I found it rather difficult to tell my wife about it. No matter
>how mildly I mentioned it to her, she would be deeply hurt.
>
>Honestly, she was a good wife. Every evening she was busy preparing
dinner.
>I was sitting in front of the TV. The dinner was ready soon. Then we
>watched TV together. Or, I was lounging before the computer, visualizing
>Dew's body. This was the means of my entertainment.
>
>One day I said to her in a slightly joking way, suppose we divorce, what
>will you do? She stared at me for a few seconds without a word. Apparently
>she believed that divorce was something too far away from her. I couldn't
>imagine how she would react once she got to know I was serious.
>
>When my wife went to my office, Dew had just stepped out. Almost all the
>staff looked at my wife with a sympathetic eye and tried to hide something
>while talking to her. She seemed to have got some hint. She gently smiled
>at my subordinates. But I read some hurt in her eyes.
>
>Once again, Dew said to me, He Ning, divorce her, O.K.? Then we live
>together. I nodded. I knew I could not hesitate any more.
>
>When my wife served the last dish, I held her hand. I've got something to
>tell you, I said. She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt
>in her eyes. Suddenly I didn't know how to open my mouth. But I had to let
>her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the serious topic
>calmly.
>
>She didn't seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly,
>why? I'm serious. I avoided her question. This so-called answer made her
>angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man!
>
>That night, we didn't talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she
>wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly
>give her a satisfactory answer, because my heart had gone to Dew.
>
>With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated
that
>she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company. She glanced
>at it and then tore it into pieces. I felt a pain in my heart. The woman
>who had been living ten years with me would become a stranger one day. But
>I could not take back what I had said.
>
>Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to
>see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce
>which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer.
>
>Late that night, I came back home after entertaining my clients. I saw her
>writing something at the table. I fall asleep fast. When I woke up, I
found
>she was still there. I turned over and was asleep again.
>
>She brought up her divorce conditions: she didn't want anything from me,
>but I was supposed to give her one month s time before divorce, and in the
>month's time we must live as normal a life as possible. Her reason was
>simple: our son would finish his summer vacation a month later and she
>didn't want him to see our marriage was broken.
>
>She passed me the agreement she drafted, and then asked me, He Ning, do
you
>still remember how I entered our bridal room on the wedding day? This
>question suddenly brought back all those wonderful memories to me. I
nodded
>and said, I remember. You carried me in your arms, she continued, so, I
>have a requirement, that is, you carry me out in your arms on the day when
>we divorce. From now to the end of this month, you must carry me out from
>the bedroom to the door every morning.
>
>I accepted with a smile. I knew she missed those sweet days and wished to
>end her marriage romantically.
>
>I told Dew about my wife s divorce conditions. She laughed loudly and
>thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she does, she has to face the
>result of divorce, she said scornfully. Her words more or less made me
feel
>uncomfortable.
>
>My wife and I hadn't had any body contact since my divorce intention was
>explicitly expressed. We even treated each other as a stranger. So when I
>carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped
>behind us, daddy is holding mummy in his arms. His words brought me a
sense
>of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked
>over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly,
>Let us start from today, don't tell our son. I nodded, feeling somewhat
>upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for a bus, I
drove
>to the office.
>
>On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my
>chest. We were so close that I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I
>realized that I hadn't looked at this intimate woman carefully for a long
>time. I found she was not young any more. There were some fine wrinkles on
>her face.
>
>On the third day, she whispered to me, the outside garden is being
>demolished. Be careful when you pass there.
>
>On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I seemed to feel that we were
>still an intimate couple and I was holding my sweetheart in my arms. The
>visualization of Dew became vague.
>
>On the fifth and sixth day, she kept reminding me something, such as,
where
>she put the ironed shirts, I should be careful while cooking, etc. I
>nodded. The sense of intimacy was even stronger. I didn't tell Dew about
>this.
>
>I felt it was easier to carry her. Perhaps the everyday workout made me
>stronger. I said to her, It seems not difficult to carry you now. She was
>picking her dresses. I was waiting to carry her out. She tried quite a few
>but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my dresses have
>grown bigger. I smiled. But I suddenly realized that it was because she
was
>thinner that I could carry her more easily, not because I was stronger. I
>knew she had buried all the bitterness in her heart. Again, I felt a sense
>of pain. Subconsciously I reached out a hand to touch her head.
>
>Our son came in at the moment. Dad, it's time to carry mum out. He said.
To
>him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had been an essential part
>of his life. She gestured our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I
>turned my face because I was afraid I would change my mind at the last
>minute. I held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the
>sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and
>naturally. I held her body tightly, as if we came back to our wedding day.
>But her much lighter weight made me sad.
>
>On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step.
Our
>son had gone to school. She said, actually I hope you will hold me in your
>arms until we are old.
>
>I held her tightly and said, both you and I didn't notice that our life
>lacked intimacy.
>
>I jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any
>delay would make me change my decision. I walked upstairs. Dew opened the
>door. I said to her, Sorry, Dew, I won't divorce. I'm serious.
>
>She looked at me, astonished. The she touched my forehead. You got no
>fever. She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Dew, I said, I can
>only say sorry to you, I won't divorce. My marriage life was boring
>probably because she and I didn't value the details of life, not because
we
>didn't love each other any more. Now I understand that since I carried her
>into the home, she gave birth to our child, I am supposed to hold her
until
>I am old.. So I have to say sorry to you.
>
>Dew seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed
>the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove to the
office.
>
>When I passed the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet for my wife
>which was her favorite. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card.
I
>smiled and wrote, I'll carry you out every morning until we are old.
>
>
>Very touching, right? If you think it's touching, please forward it to
your
>friends and me too, if you think it's not touching at all, just ignored
>this email.