Afterword
There is a type of fighter jet called the Wild Weasel, modeled after the weasel's form. It is not the most powerful weapon, but because it can refuel mid-air, it can remain in the sky for a long time—enduring as the heavens and the earth.
A woman gave a Wild Weasel fighter jet to a man.
He thought she loved him, but she loved another man. She spent ten years of her life on him; he was her everything, yet he stripped her of her dignity.
It turns out that love has only two outcomes—you either gain a great deal of dignity or lose a great deal of dignity.
He promised to love her for seventy summers,
But the summers faded away in sorrow.
Love, it turns out, is like drinking poisoned wine with a smile—heart-wrenching, yet never regretting.
The Wild Weasel, stripped of its dignity, departed. Only after he was gone did she realize that it was he who had given her dignity.
He once said that nothing in the world truly disappears; it only transforms into another substance. When a man dies, he may turn into the dust on his woman's skin.
She knew he would return, yet the one who says goodbye first always holds the upper hand.
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