時間·阿斯匹林

Ｓｕｚａｎｎｅ　Ｆｉｎｎａｍｏｒｅ

朱俊 譯

I have been divorced two years this Thanksgiving.

(The irony is not altogether lost. Bear with me.)

I did not believe I would ever get out of my divorce, which couldnt have been more painful,²⁾squalid, or ³⁾banal. We had just had a baby?not to save the marriage, I might add?but for the usual joyous, traditional, and misguided reasons.

I did not know the marriage needed saving. This shows my general naivete, something that divorce cures one of forever.

I became a single mother overnight, which is nothing like becoming famous overnight. I believe it is the emotional equivalent of having a stroke. While my ⁴⁾estranged spouse⁵⁾recuperated at the⁶⁾exquisite tropical island where frothy drinks are served with miniature⁷⁾parasols, I was left holding the diaper bag.

The timing could not have been worse, as I was left to raise our beautiful son at a time when eating or grooming seemed difficult and perhaps unnecessary. I wanted to die. Life as I knew it was over, my bills were doubled, and my fear and loneliness and sense of complete failure rose like bone dust into the night air.

In a true universe, there would be a place where love and marriages go to die,⁸⁾raptures own version of the elephants graveyard. They should not be allowed to⁹⁾dissipate on their own, to float away on some random moment,¹⁰⁾irrevocable as seed from a¹¹⁾dandelion.

During the first weeks, my mother came to stay with me, positioned on the¹²⁾Pottery Barn chair and a half, a kind of angelic sentinel in¹³⁾sweat clothes. She drank¹⁴⁾Diet Coke, and she listened, telling me stories from her own divorce. These stories were not terribly encouraging, seeing as how my father remarried twice and dropped dead at forty-four. But although my mother wanted to part my husbands hair with an ax, she was happy; I noticed that. She had survived.

Of course, I did not die. Instead, I focused on my extraordinary son and drank¹⁵⁾midrange¹⁶⁾chardonnay every night from the couch, which had become my battle station. I ordered a barrage of mail-order items. I felt like hammered shit every day.

I asked my mother, “How long?” “ Two years,” she said. My brain did not accept this as¹⁷⁾viable information. Yes, my mother had been left at thirty-six with two kids, but that was in the ‘70s. I announced I could not last that long, that even next month was pushing it. She said, “Oh, well... Everyones different, honey.”

I walked around my small town with a thought bubble over my head: Person Going through a Divorce. When I looked at other people, I automatically formed thought bubbles over their heads. Happy Couple with Stroller. Innocent Teenage Girl with Her Whole Life Ahead of Her. Content Grandmother and Grandfather Visiting Town Where Their Grandchildren Live with Intact Parents. Secure Housewife with Big Diamond. Undamaged Group of Young Men on Skateboards. Good Man with Baby in¹⁸⁾Baby Bjorn Who Loves His Wife. Dogs Who Never Have to Worry. Young Kids Kissing Publicly. Then every so often Id see one like me, one of the shambling, sad women without makeup, looking older than she is. Divorced Woman Wondering How the Fuck This Happened.

I remember thinking, this just cant last. Sooner or later my life is going to have to come back from the cleaners. I waited. I was not patient, but I waited. If thered been someone in a position of authority to upbraid for this, I would have. I would have upbraided most severely.

I asked my divorced friends, “How long?” “ Two years,” they said.

“No no no no,” I thought.

Time passed slowly, as when one is waiting for aspirin to work on ones severed head.

I got through the first Christmas. The first Valentines Day. The first wedding anniversary. The first divorce anniversary. The pain slowly eased up; the psychic damage was beginning, if not to disappear, then to¹⁹⁾taper. I stopped wishing him dead, and started wishing him rich so he could send us more money. This did not happen.

And then, just as my mother said it would happen, one day I walked down the street with my son and realized I felt happy. Out of the woods.

When people say it takes two years, believe them. Statistically speaking, this is the point in time when one has gotten through it. There is some truth to this?also some rather²⁰⁾flamboyant falsehoods, especially when you have a child running around wearing his face and yours, entwined forever: you have done this, it cannot be undone. You will always have children together; they will almost certainly outlive the marriage in terms of years. Its beautiful and hard all at once. Its marriage and its²¹⁾Siamese twin, divorce. Divorce, which apparently has become the²²⁾antidote to marriage, although the jury is decidedly out. In the end, its just life.

After a couple of years, you can appreciate your ex for who he is and realize that he is separate and distinct from you. You can feel a certain amount of warmth for him, as you do your²³⁾alma mater, or your car. You can love a car, but you do not attach yourself to the car. You do not buy little gifts for the car thinking you can be with the car over. You do not lose sleep over whether the car thinks you are attractive or if the car is thinking of you too, right now. You do not especially care whether someone else drives the car.

Right.

Or, you can wait two years.

到今年感恩節(jié)，我就離婚兩年了。

（這具有諷刺意味的事情并不是人人都能明白的，請耐心聽我說明。）

我以為自己永遠(yuǎn)也走不出離婚的陰影。離婚實在是太痛苦、太可憐，也可以說太老套了。我們剛剛有了個孩子——我得說，這并不是為了挽救婚姻，因為通常來講，孩子能帶來歡樂，雖然這個理由很傳統(tǒng)卻有其誤導(dǎo)性。

我不知道婚姻也需要挽救。這暴露出我的天真，而離婚是可以將它徹底根治的。

我在一夜之間成了單親媽媽，這跟一夜成名可完全不一樣。我認(rèn)為這就好比是感情的中風(fēng)。當(dāng)跟我分手的丈夫在優(yōu)美的熱帶小島上恢復(fù)心情享受著插著小傘的泡沫飲料時，我卻被落在了這里，手里還抓著一個尿布包。

時機(jī)上的巧合沒有比這更糟糕的了。在這個自己都無心吃喝梳洗——這些也許也沒什么必要——的時候，我還要獨自撫養(yǎng)我們漂亮的兒子。我真想一死了之。我以為我的生活完蛋了，賬單也比以前高出一倍，恐懼、孤獨和徹底的失敗感像骨粉一樣在夜空中揚起。

在現(xiàn)實世界里，應(yīng)該有一個愛與婚姻的最終歸宿，就如傳說中年老的大象，在臨終前獨自走到安息之地一樣。能找到愛與婚姻的最終歸宿是值得欣喜若狂的。愛與婚姻，不應(yīng)該由它們自行消失，不應(yīng)該由它們隨意飄飛，像蒲公英的種子一樣無法在放飛之后將它收回。

在離婚后最初的幾個星期里，母親過來陪我。她坐在“陶瓷大谷倉”牌的擱腳椅上，就像一個穿著運動衫的好心的守衛(wèi)。她一邊喝著健怡可樂一邊傾聽，還跟我講她自己離婚的事。我知道了父親兩次再婚，44歲就告別人世，這些事并不是那么振奮人心。不過盡管母親想一斧子把我前夫的頭發(fā)給割下來，她還是很開心的。我注意到了這一點——她挺過來了。

當(dāng)然，我沒有死。恰恰相反，我把注意力集中到我那非凡的兒子身上，每天晚上我都在沙發(fā)上喝中度的霞多麗白葡萄酒—沙發(fā)已經(jīng)成為我的戰(zhàn)斗基地，我在那里郵購了許多東西。我每天都感覺自己像一團(tuán)爛泥。

我問母親：“要用多長時間我才能復(fù)原？”“兩年”，她說。我心里并沒把這話當(dāng)真。不錯，母親在她36歲的時候被拋棄了，她還帶著兩個孩子，但那是在1970年代。我告訴她我撐不了那么久，我甚至都撐不到下個月。她說，“哦，這個……親愛的，每個人都不一樣的。”

我在我家所在的小鎮(zhèn)上轉(zhuǎn)悠，頭上頂著一個對話泡泡：“正在經(jīng)歷離婚痛苦的人”。我在觀察其他人的時候，不由自主地給他們頭上也加上一個對話泡泡。“推嬰兒車的幸福夫婦”；“前途無量的天真少女”；“來鎮(zhèn)上與兒孫全家團(tuán)圓的心滿意足的祖父母”；“無憂無慮、珠光寶氣的家庭主婦”；“一群未經(jīng)拆散的玩滑板的少年”；“胸前背著嬰兒、愛妻子的好男人”；“永遠(yuǎn)沒有煩惱的狗”；“大庭廣眾之下接吻的孩子”。然后我也偶爾會看到一個像我一樣，步履蹣跚的憂傷女人，素面朝天，看上去要比實際年齡還要老?！案悴欢x婚這破事兒是怎么發(fā)生的失婚女人”。

我記得當(dāng)時在想，我不會永遠(yuǎn)都是這個樣子的。我的生活遲早會恢復(fù)原狀。我開始等待，我并沒有什么耐心，可我還是等待著。這事兒要是有人可以怪罪，我會的，我會猛烈地控訴一番。

我問離過婚的朋友：“要等上多久？”“兩年”，他們說。

不會不會，不會吧，我想。

時間過得很慢，就像一個人等著阿斯匹林發(fā)生效用，以擊退他劇烈的頭痛一樣。

我捱過了離婚后的第一個圣誕節(jié)、第一個情人節(jié)、第一個結(jié)婚紀(jì)念日和第一個離婚紀(jì)念日。痛楚慢慢地減輕，精神上的打擊如果說還沒有消失的話，它也已經(jīng)在減弱了。我不再希望他（前夫）死掉，開始希望他富有起來，這樣他就會給我們寄更多的錢來。他沒有。

然后，就像母親說過的那樣，有一天我和兒子在街上走的時候，突然意識到自己很開心。我終于闖過了這一關(guān)。

如果別人說要用兩年的時間才能走出離婚的陰影，相信他們。從統(tǒng)計上來說，這就是一個人走出痛苦的關(guān)鍵時間。這既有點道理——又像個相當(dāng)美麗的謊言，尤其是那個長相酷似你倆的孩子在身邊跑來跑去，永遠(yuǎn)纏著你的時候。事情已經(jīng)發(fā)生，覆水難收。你會永遠(yuǎn)有這個孩子，當(dāng)然從時間上來說，他們幾乎總是比婚姻更能持久。痛苦總是伴隨著美好。就像婚姻和它的孿生姐妹——離婚一樣。盡管陪審團(tuán)尚未做出結(jié)論，離婚卻顯然已經(jīng)成為婚姻的解藥。畢竟這就是生活。

幾年過后，你會欣賞你前夫的為人，并意識到他跟你已經(jīng)勞燕分飛，形同陌路。你對他會有幾分溫暖的感覺，就像你對你的母校，或是你的汽車一樣。你可以愛上一輛車，但你對它不會有依戀。你不會給汽車買小禮物，以為自己可以跟汽車共度余生。你不會因為不知道汽車是不是認(rèn)為你有魅力，或汽車此刻是不是也在想著你而失眠。別人會不會開你的車，你并不怎么介意。

沒錯。

或者，你可以等上兩年。