情已死,爱去了哪里?

儿时的玩伴、年少时的初恋以及那昔日的挚友，他们曾陪你走过生命中很长一段时光。但谁也抵挡不了世事变迁，有一天你们天各一方、渐行渐远。在生命中的某一刻，你无比思念与他们一起度过的美好过往，你想知道他们在哪里，过得怎样。你期待并渴望着他们能在回忆中想起你。你忍不住想知道那些美好的记忆、那些爱都去了哪里……

There was a friend you saw every day when you were little. The friend with whom you built forts1）， told scary stories （trying not to fall asleep first）， and ran around in the neighborhood until you had to come in for dinner. All of the most thrilling， scary， confusing parts of growing up and navigating a world three sizes too big for you seemed manageable with them. Catching fireflies and wiggling around in sleeping bags， setting up a tent in your backyard， seemed like the stuff of a dangerous safari2）. You were sure you could catch a lion together， if only provided with the proper equipment.

But things happened. You moved away， or they did， or seeing each other just got too hard. Even a simple change of school can do it. Before you know it， you’re an actual adult， and the person who knew you best for such an enormous part of your life—the only person with whom you share such an extraordinary quantity of childhood memories—is gone.

There was the person who taught you how to love. The person with whom you felt more alive and real and full than you ever imagined possible， who seemed to love even the dark， ugly corners of yourself you were constantly trying to squirrel3） away. They licked4） your wounds and told you that you were beautiful. They took you on adventures that didn’t even require you leaving your house. Between the bedroom， the kitchen， and the plush5）， perfect couch， you existed in a kind of seclusion from everything else in the world. You didn’t need anyone else. You lost entire days kissing， talking， laughing in the car holding hands over the stick shift. You remember the things they showed you， things you were certain that no other human had ever been privy6） to. With them， you were some kind of royalty， protected from the ugliness of the world outside.

But things happened. And one night， you found yourselves at the rough， tattered7） end of a conversation that spanned several hours and had clearly been overdue for weeks. You had both said things that stung， that made you question whether or not this was all some sort of mirage8）， that you could have imagined such a beautiful interlude9） out of such a crippling10） need to feel loved in some way. You feel the tears welling up and burning the corners of your eyes， but promised yourself a thousand times before arriving that—no， you would not cry tonight. But you do cry. And they cry. And you hold each other and cry. But in the morning， it’s still over. It’s gone.

There was the friend with whom you came of age. Learning how to kiss， how to sneak a beer， how to run away quickly if you heard an authority figure coming—they made the education seem easy， even comfortable， learning everything by your side. You swapped11） tips， you grew， you started to figure out life in a way that adulthood would eventually demand. You started to understand what it meant to save money， to make hard choices， to worry about your future. Without realizing you were doing it， the two of you held hands and waved goodbye to the childhood that was clearly fading into your past. Though the future was scary， unclear， and full of all the tedium you knew would wear on your spirit； knowing that someone just like you was taking the step as well made it alright. “Everything is gonna change，” you would whisper at night， staring up at the stars， passing a single bottle between the two of you. “I know，” they would reply. And you knew， just knew， that it would always be the two of you seeing the change together.

But things happened. You had failed to account for the changes that would literally pull you in different directions， that would make you a sort of new person， that would leave one or the other longing to forget about their wild days before adulthood and everything that came with it. From a distance， emotional or geographic， the rate at which you come together to share everything dwindles12） to nothingness. Eventually， it’s been too long to just call them back. Things have become strange， and there’s a certain metallic taste in your mouth when you think of the memories that have evaporated into thin air behind you.

Where do these people go？ What do they do？ Is there some kind of colony in which they all live together， holding hands and thinking of the time they spent with you？ Of course not. People are whole entities with their own struggles and histories and reasons for not calling back， and they can’t spend the rest of their lives thinking about how great it was when you two were together. But it was great， wasn’t it？ And the idea that they can go a whole lifetime without ever looking back and feeling that aching， sinking feeling in their stomach， that crippling nostalgia—it’s almost worse than the ending itself. The separation is so much more bearable when you know that you both look back fondly， and would always want to meet for a coffee， should the occasion arise.

Just because you two are no longer the comic book duo13） that you once were doesn’t mean that you don’t want to see a Christmas card from their new family， or hear about their big move， or hear whatever became of their incredible talent for drawing. This isn’t about a broken heart. A broken heart implies a kind of shattering， a searching of the hardwood floor for pieces that might have gotten lost under the couch. Yours isn’t broken； it’s long-since been patched together and， despite the occasional stutter14）， functions quite well. This is about a heart that aches with memories too big for its fragile little form， that is bursting on all sides from love that longs to be accepted， to at least be vocalized15）. This is a heart that dies a slow， quiet death from this need we have to pretend as though something never existed the second that it is over.

And where does the love go？ Because it’s impossible to believe that it simply ceases to be a part of our universe， that it falls into some pinprick16）-sized black hole and no longer floats amongst us. Things are better because you caught fireflies in your back yard， because you kissed under a blanket， because you drove around in circles in your parents’ car， blasting music. This lost love must still exist somewhere， transmuting17） into more love and better love and love for people who haven’t yet felt it. It must be there， because you still remember it.

Maybe we just need to hear that they do， too.

小时候，你有一个天天见面的好朋友。他/她和你一起搭建城堡，讲恐怖故事（为了不第一个入睡），在街巷里奔跑嬉戏，直到你不得不回家吃饭。在你成长过程中，在你探索一个远比你自身视野庞大的世界的过程中，你会遇到一些最令人激动、最使人恐慌、最让人困惑的东西，但有了他/她，所有这一切似乎都不在话下。逮萤火虫，在睡袋里翻来覆去，在后院里搭建帐篷——这一切似乎就是一次充满危险的狩猎之旅。你相信，只要有合适的装备，你们在一起连狮子都能捕到。

但世事无常。你搬家了，或者他/她搬家了，或者只是你们很难再见面。哪怕只是转学这样的小事也能使你们分开。不知不觉间，你已真的长大成人，而那个在你人生相当长一段时间里最了解你的人——那个唯一能够和你分享一桩桩一幕幕童年记忆的人——却已不在你身边。

那是一个教你如何去爱的人，一个在你身边会令你觉得自己比以往任何时候都更有活力、更真实、更充实的人，一个似乎连你身上最阴暗、最丑陋的地方都会喜欢的人——虽然你自己总想把这些地方隐藏起来。他/她为你舔舐伤口，对你说你很美。他/她甚至不需要你离开家门也能带你踏上探险之旅。从卧室到厨房再到舒适柔软的沙发，你生活在一个几乎与世隔绝的世界里。别人你谁也不需要。你们整天在汽车里亲吻、交谈、欢笑，在变速杆上方手握着手。你还记得他/她给你看的那些东西——那些你确信别人根本不知道的东西。和他/她在一起，你就像王孙贵族一般，受到百般呵护，远离外界的丑恶。

但世事无常。一个夜晚，你们进行了一次艰难的、令人心力交瘁的交谈，持续了几个钟头。显然，这次谈话几周之前就该进行了。你们都说了一些伤人的话，这些话让你怀疑这一切是否只是一个幻觉，你是否应该把它想象成一个因为极度渴望在某种程度上被爱而产生的美丽插曲。你感到泪水在眼里打转，灼烧着你的眼角，但在此之前，你已在心里默默地对自己说了一千次：不，今晚你不能哭。但你还是哭了。他/她也哭了。你们相拥而泣。但第二天早上，这一切还是结束了，消失了。

那是一个与你一起长大的朋友。你们一起学会了亲吻，学会了偷喝啤酒，学会听到某个“权威人士”走来就赶紧跑开。他/她似乎让成长教育变得容易，甚至舒心，你不管学什么都有他/她在身旁陪伴。你们一起交换心得，一起成长，你们开始以成人世界所要求的方式来理解人生。你们开始明白攒钱的意义，开始做一些艰难的选择，开始为将来担忧。不知不觉间，童年已完全消逝，成为过去，你们俩手牵着手，一起向童年挥别。尽管未来让人担忧，尽管前途未卜，尽管你知道未来会枯燥乏味、消磨斗志，但知道有个人正和你一样也在迈步前行，你心里就会无比踏实。“一切都会改变的。”你轻轻地说。那是在一个夜晚，你凝视着天上的繁星，你们两人轮流喝着一瓶酒。“我知道。”他/她会这样回答。你也知道，非常肯定地知道，和你一起亲历这种变化的一定非他/她莫属。

但世事无常。有些变化是你无法解释清楚的，这些变化使你们各奔东西，使你们成了某种意义上的另一个人，使你们中的一个或另一个渴望忘掉成年之前那些疯狂的日子，忘掉伴随着成年而来的一切。隔着遥远的距离——不管这距离是感情上的还是地理上的——你们重新聚首、分享一切的机会越来越小，直至完全消失。最终，因为时间太久已无法将他/她唤回。一切都变得那么陌生。记忆就像蒸汽一样，在你身后消失得无影无踪，每当你想起这一切，嘴里就有一种说不出的苦涩味道。

这些人去了哪里？他们都在做什么？这世上有没有一个特殊的结界，在那里他们都生活在一起，手拉着手，思念着和你一起共度的时光？当然没有。人是自成一体的实体，有着自己的奋争、自己的历史，也有不回顾过去的理由。他们不可能把余生都花在回忆你们俩在一起的日子是多么美妙上。但你们在一起的日子确实很美妙，不是吗？一想到他们可能一辈子都不会回头，不会感受到那种痛苦的、颓丧的感觉，那种令人心碎的怀旧之情，这简直比天各一方的现实更令人难以忍受。但当你知道你们都在深情地回忆往事，也总是希望在机缘巧合的时候能够见上一面，喝喝咖啡，那么天各一方也就不那么难以忍受了。

你俩已经不再是那个一起看漫画书的二人组了，但这并不意味着你就不想收到来自他们新家庭的圣诞卡，不想听到他们的大变动，或者不想了解他们那不可思议的绘画才能现在怎样了。这并不牵涉心碎的问题。心如果碎了就会散落一地，你恐怕要趴在实木地板上寻找那有可能散落在沙发下面的碎片了。你的心并没有碎，它早就被缝合在一起了，虽然偶尔会有点故障，但功能却正常。这是一颗痛苦的心，载着太多的记忆，以致那小小的、脆弱的形体已无法容纳；这是一颗因爱而膨胀的心，渴望有人接纳，或者至少淋漓尽致地表达出来；这是一颗缓缓地、悄悄死去的心，因为我们需要在这份爱结束之时假装一切都不曾发生过。

爱去了哪里？因为很难相信爱就这样从我们的宇宙中消失了，不再是它的一部分；很难相信爱掉进了某个针孔大的黑洞里，不再徜徉于我们中间。你们曾在后院里捉过萤火虫，你们曾蒙着毛毯亲吻，你们曾开着父母的车一圈又一圈地兜风，音乐开得震天响——因为有了这一切，你的生活变得更加美好。那失去的爱一定还存在于某个地方，转化成更多的爱，更美的爱，让没有感受过爱的人也能感受到的爱。爱一定还存在着，因为它就活在你记忆里。

也许我们只需要知道，爱也活在他/她的记忆里。

1. fort [f??（r）t] n. 堡垒

2. safari [s??fɑ?ri] n. （尤指在东非的）狩猎旅行；探险

3. squirrel [?skw?r?l] vt. 把……藏起来

4. lick [l?k] vt. 舔

5. plush [pl??] adj. 舒适的

6. privy [?pr?vi] adj. 私下知悉的

7. tattered [?t?t?（r）d] adj. 疲劳的，疲倦的

8. mirage [?m?rɑ??] n. 幻想

9. interlude [??nt?（r）?lu?d] n. 插曲

10. crippling [?kr?pl??] adj. 严重损害身体的

11. swap [sw?p] vt. 交换

12. dwindle [?dw?nd（?）l] vi. 缩小

13. duo [?dju???] n. 一对；一双

14. stutter [?st?t?（r）] n. 突突的响声

15. vocalize [?v??k?la?z] vt. 发出声音；说

16. pinprick [?p?n?pr?k] n. 针孔；（针孔似的）小孔

17. transmute [tr?nz?mju?t] vi. 变化，转化