i'll carry you out every morning until we are old. (:

>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 of 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 affections 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. Her words suddenly
>reminded me of my wife. When we 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 her to go and see 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 slight 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 with 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, 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 to divorce. I raised a
serious topic calmly.
>
>She didn t seem to be much annoyed by my
words, instead she asked me
>softly, why? I'm serious. I avoided her question.
This so-called answer
>turned her angry. She threw away the chopsticks
and shouted at me, you are
>not a man! .
>
>At 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.
>
>A late night, I came back home after entertaining
my clients. I saw her
>writing something at the table. I fell 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 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, 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 with a romantic form.
>
>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 for 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 bus,
>I drove to 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 more 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 fatter. 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
>was lack of such 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 favourite. The salesgirl asked me
to write the greeting words
>on the card. I smiled and wrote, I 'll carry you out
every morning until
>we are old.