他愛你，但他表達(dá)愛的方式有點怪

This was on a Friday evening last March, the final night of a three-day vacation in New Orleans with my best friend. On a street between Jackson Square and St. Louis Cathedral, she and I sat on folding chairs, glued to the seats. Before us, a stranger had promised to expound on my future for $50.

那是在去年3月的一個周五晚上，是我和最好的朋友在新奧爾良度過的三天假期的最后一晚。在杰克遜廣場和圣路易斯大教堂之間的一條街上，我們坐在折疊椅上，不肯起來。有個陌生人來到我們面前，說只要花上50美元，她就能預(yù)測我的未來。

At that price, she said, I could have the full experience: readings of my palms and her Tarot cards and divination crystals. Except, I wasn’t interested in the full experience. I only wanted the answer to one question, using the most inexpensive method available.

她說，那個價格能讓我獲得全套體驗：看手相，以及用塔羅牌和水晶球預(yù)測未來。只不過，我對全套體驗沒興趣。我只想用最便宜的方式知道一個問題的答案。

So I asked for the palm reading. Actually, I haggled my way to getting both the palm reading and a Tarot card reading for $30. As she took my hands in hers, my heart rate rose and my palms began to sweat.

所以我要求看手相。實際上，我跟她講了講價，花30美元既看了手相又算了塔羅牌。她把我的手放進(jìn)她的手里時，我的心跳開始加速，掌心開始出汗。

Moments before, my friend had asked me if I believed in psychic predictions. I considered myself to be a hopeful skeptic, but a neophyte in the worlds of clairvoyance, soothsaying and any medium promising news of the future. Yet as I strolled the New Orleans streets and listened to the voodoo legends, I knew there was no better place for me to lose my fortunetelling innocence.

在那之前不久，我的朋友問我是否相信通靈預(yù)測。我覺得自己將信將疑，但是，在先知、預(yù)言以及任何通曉未來的媒介的世界里，我是菜鳥。不過，當(dāng)我在新奧爾良街頭漫步、聆聽伏都教的傳說時，我知道沒有哪個地方比這里更適合開啟我的占卜初體驗。

But would I be O.K. with the fortune she saw for me? I was convinced I would not be.

但是，我能接受她給我預(yù)測的未來嗎?當(dāng)時我確信自己可以。

Wearing a pink hoodie and a crooked smile, the fortuneteller stared at the grid on my palms. Reading it like a map, she traced the lines with long, painted fingernails. As she did, I tried to keep an open mind and not be distracted by her chipped, hot-pink manicure or the too few teeth she revealed as she spoke. She began with the topic I wanted to hear about most: my love life.

占卜者身穿粉色兜帽上衣，微笑時一邊嘴角向上，一邊向下，她盯著我掌心的紋路。她用長長的涂了色的指甲追尋那些線條，就像在看地圖。她這樣做的時候，我盡量保持開放的心態(tài)，不去注意她那業(yè)已斑駁的桃紅色指甲油以及她開口說話時露出的稀稀拉拉的牙齒。她首先講到我最想聽的話題：我的愛情生活。

“You’ve been hurt before,” she said.

“你受過傷，”她說。

Typical opening line. Of course I had been hurt before. Hasn’t everyone? My eyes darted warily to my travel companion, and I nodded.

這是一句典型的開場白。我當(dāng)然受過傷。誰沒有呢?我警惕地瞟了我的旅伴一眼，點了點頭。

The fortuneteller asked for the name of the person who had hurt me. Then she probed my memories of another failed relationship. After I had named two men I had attempted to forget, she asked me to confirm the presence of a new one in my life.

占卜者讓我告訴她傷害我的人的名字。然后打探了我的另一段失敗的戀情。在我說出兩個我努力忘記的男人的名字之后，她說我的生活中出現(xiàn)了一個新的人，問我她說的對不對。

I nodded again, not sure if I should run away, hold my breath or sit frozen in my seat. She wanted me to say his name. I told her.

我再次點了點頭，不知道自己是應(yīng)該逃走，還是屏住呼吸，還是僵硬地坐在那里。她想讓我說出他的名字。我告訴了她。

“He loves you,” she said, “but he has a funny way of showing it.”

“他愛你，”她說，“不過他表達(dá)愛的方式有點怪。”

There it was. Without even asking, I had an answer to the question that had been torturing me for weeks.

就是這個。我還沒問，就得到了困擾我數(shù)周的問題的答案。

My boyfriend and I were nearing the anniversary of our first date. We had met through Hinge, a dating app that relies on social networks. He was only the second person from the app I had agreed to meet in real life.

我和男朋友從第一次約會到現(xiàn)在差不多一年了。我們是通過Hinge認(rèn)識的，那是一個基于社交網(wǎng)絡(luò)的約會軟件。他是第二個我同意在現(xiàn)實生活中見面的人。

Our first date was on a Monday evening, and it lasted almost three hours. Instead of choosing a bottle, we ordered too many glasses of red wine, talked about our mutual appreciation for “The West Wing” and agreed that marathon running is its own form of masochism. When we called it a night, we dispersed with a hug and his request that I text him when I made it home.

第一次約會是在某個周一的晚上，我們一起度過了將近3個鐘頭。當(dāng)時，我們沒點成瓶的紅酒，而是點了很多很多杯紅酒，談到了對《白宮風(fēng)云》(The West Wing)的共同喜愛，并一致同意跑馬拉松是一種受虐形式。約會結(jié)束時，我們在分別前擁抱了一下，他讓我到家后發(fā)個短信給他。

I did so, and texted him again less than 24 hours later, telling him I hoped he enjoyed the concert he had mentioned he was planning to see that evening. A day passed before my phone lit up with his name. He loved the show, he wrote, and he wanted a second date.

我按照他的要求做了，并在不到24小時之后再度發(fā)短信說，希望他很享受他此前提到過的打算在那天晚上去聽的音樂會。一天后，他的名字出現(xiàn)在我的手機(jī)屏幕上。他寫道，他喜歡那場演出，想要和我再次約會。

Twelve months later, we were still together, seeing each other as often as three or four times a week, and I was starting to feel something different about us. I had never been in love, but something told me this was what it felt like.

12個月過后，我們依然在一起，每周約會三到四次，我開始覺得我們之間的關(guān)系有些不同。我以前從未遭遇過愛情，但一些跡象告訴我，愛就是這種感覺。

And yet, despite all of that, neither of us had uttered the word. If I felt this way, wouldn’t it make sense that he did too? I wondered if I should say it first, or wait for him to. I kept silent, while he, too, said nothing.

盡管如此，我們倆都不曾把愛字說出口。如果我覺得是這樣，難道不意味著他也有同感嗎?我不知道自己是該先說出來，還是該等他開口。我保持了沉默，而他也什么都沒說。

Tired of waiting, I hoped the fortuneteller would give me the sense of clarity I needed.

我厭倦了等待，希望占卜者為我?guī)砦宜枰幕砣婚_朗之感。

By saying plainly that my boyfriend loved me, she had. And maybe his “funny way of showing it” meant he was unable to say those words himself.

通過直截了當(dāng)?shù)匦嘉夷信笥褠畚遥龅搅诉@一點。而他“用以表達(dá)愛意的古怪方式”或許意味著他無法親口說出這樣的話。

Whatever the case, I had gotten what I wanted and was ready to go, but the fortuneteller continued, shuffling a deck of Tarot cards and predicting I would live to be 96. Her words then became lost amid a cacophony of street noise, and as the cathedral bells rang in the new hour, I took it as our cue to leave.

無論如何，我已經(jīng)得到了想要的答案，準(zhǔn)備離開，但占卜者沒有停下來，一邊洗一副塔羅牌一邊預(yù)言我會活到96歲。她的話隨后被淹沒在街頭的嘈雜喧囂之中，當(dāng)教堂的鐘聲在另一個小時開始之際響起的時候，我覺得我們該離開了。

Three weeks later, back home in Washington, I still had not said anything to my boyfriend about the experience. I had teased him about my pricey glance into the future but had resisted mentioning the fortuneteller’s assessment. Meanwhile, her words haunted me, urging me to action, until one night at his apartment, I felt ready to give voice to my feelings.

回到位于華盛頓的家中三周后，我仍然沒向男朋友透露關(guān)于這段經(jīng)歷的任何細(xì)節(jié)。我逗弄他說，我花大價錢窺探了一下未來，但不愿提起占卜者給出的評語。與此同時，她的話一直縈繞在我腦海中，敦促我采取行動，直到一天晚上，在他的公寓里，我覺得自己已經(jīng)做好了準(zhǔn)備，可以說出內(nèi)心的感受。

Standing in front of the microwave, I studied its buttons, wondering whether to trust the popcorn function. My boyfriend uncorked a bottle of wine, and as I heard the cork pop, I turned to the man I had been dating for over a year. My body surged with emotion, lighting my face with happiness. We both smiled. The popping kernels reminded me of the St. Louis Cathedral bells, and I felt transported back to New Orleans. We proceeded to drink the wine but failed to finish the popcorn.

我站在微波爐前研究它的按鈕，不知是否應(yīng)該相信那個做爆米花的功能。我的男朋友開了一瓶紅酒，聽到拔出軟木塞的聲音時，我轉(zhuǎn)向了跟我約會了一年多的這個男人。我心潮澎湃，臉上閃耀著幸福的光暈。我們都笑了。爆米花爆開的劈啪聲讓我想起了圣路易斯大教堂(St. Louis Cathedral)的鐘聲，我仿佛穿越回了新奧爾良。我們開始喝紅酒，但沒能把爆米花吃光。

On his bed, we embraced as I stared into his eyes. “Can I tell you something?” I asked in a whisper.

在他床上相擁的時候，我盯著他的眼睛。“我能跟你說件事嗎?”我在他耳旁輕聲說道。

“Of course,” he said, mimicking my hushed tone.

“當(dāng)然可以，”他模仿著我的低沉語調(diào)。

I paused and took a breath. “I love you.” There. I had said it.

我停頓了一下，深吸一口氣。“我愛你。”瞧，我說了出來。

At first, he didn’t say anything. An agonizing pause. Then, finally, he muttered, “Thank you.”

起初，他什么都沒說。時間停滯了，彌漫著痛苦的味道。后來，他終于輕聲說，“謝謝你。”

I waited to hear him repeat my words, but he didn’t, and everything in me that had felt joyful and optimistic drained away.

我等著聽他重復(fù)我說過的話，但他沒有，我心里的一切開心和樂觀都漸漸消失了。

As we talked more, he could neither echo my sentiment nor give me a reason he couldn’t. I thought of the fortuneteller’s words: “He loves you, but he has a funny way of showing it.”

在我們接下來的交談中，他既不能在感情上和我共鳴，也無法給我一個不能與我共鳴的理由。我想起了算命人的話：“他愛你，但他表達(dá)愛的方式有點怪。”

This wasn’t funny; it was gut-wrenching. Maybe he was afraid to confess his love because of what it might mean for us and the future. If so, I could relate. I had waited weeks before bringing it up, because it scared me too.

這不是怪，是虐心。也許他害怕承認(rèn)心中的愛是因為這對我們和未來可能意味著什么。如果是這樣，我能夠理解。我等了好幾周才提出這件事，因為我也被嚇著了。

Amid my tears, I was quick to dismiss what he was saying — and not saying — because I didn’t want to believe him. I had no more belief in palm reading or fortunetelling, but all I could think about were the words from the woman with the missing teeth. If I could believe a stranger in New Orleans, why not the response of a man I had been with for 13 months now?

我淚如泉涌，立即不再考慮他說了什么，沒說什么，因為我不愿相信他。我不再相信看手相和算命，但我唯一能想到的只有那個沒剩幾顆牙的女人說的話。如果我能相信新奧爾良的一個陌生人，那么我現(xiàn)在為什么不能相信一個已經(jīng)交往了13個月的男人的回答?

It’s hard to say which has more ingredients: a New Orleans Hand Grenade cocktail, or a case of heartbreak. That day didn’t end us, but it was the beginning of our end.

很難說是新奧爾良的手雷雞尾酒，還是一件令人心碎的事情更讓人覺得五味雜陳。那一天不是我們關(guān)系的結(jié)束，但是我們關(guān)系結(jié)束的開始。

A few weeks later, with still no mention of the “L” word from him, we broke up. We couldn’t rectify his inability to reciprocate how I felt. Ever since my unanswered profession of love, he’d felt burdened and guilty, he said. In a few months, he would be leaving Washington to pursue a Ph.D. in economics. Although he didn’t say it, I came to realize that being in love with me did not, in a practical sense, align with his immediate career plans.

幾周后，在依舊沒聽到他提及以“L”開頭的那個詞的情況下，我們分手了。我們無法修復(fù)他不能回應(yīng)我的感受這件事。他說，自從我向他表白愛意卻沒得到回應(yīng)后，他一直覺得內(nèi)疚，有負(fù)擔(dān)。再過幾個月，他就要離開華盛頓去攻讀經(jīng)濟(jì)學(xué)博士學(xué)位了。盡管他沒有說出來，但我慢慢意識到，從現(xiàn)實的角度看去，和我相愛與他近期的職業(yè)規(guī)劃不符。

I spent the weeks after our breakup feeling sad and depressed, wondering what I could have done to make him love me. Often, I thought about the fortuneteller and whether I had been naïve to put my trust in her. But I kept coming back to a single truth: She might have been wrong about my boyfriend’s feelings, but she had given me the courage to do something I had been too scared to do.

分手后的幾周里，我感到悲傷和沮喪，想知道自己本來應(yīng)該怎么做，就能讓他愛我了。我常常想起那個算命人，并自問去相信她是不是幼稚的行為。但我總會回到一個事實：她對我男朋友的感情的判斷可能是錯的，但她給了我勇氣，讓我去做之前因為太害怕而不敢做的事情。

In telling my boyfriend that I loved him, the worst thing that could have happened did: I lost him. Yet in doing so, I acknowledged my capacity and my limits in matters of love.

告訴男友我愛他后，的確發(fā)生了可能會發(fā)生的最糟糕的事情：我失去了他。但在這么做時，我承認(rèn)了自己在愛情方面的能力和極限。

He will always be the first man I loved, and for this I am grateful. I couldn’t force him to love me, and I couldn’t stay if he didn’t feel the same.

他將永遠(yuǎn)是我愛過的第一個男人，對此我心存感激。我不能強(qiáng)迫他愛我，而如果他的感受和我的不一樣，我也不能再堅持下去。

Sometimes life has a funny way of revealing to us what is best. But as the fortuneteller’s words ultimately taught me, how we show love shouldn’t be one of those funny things.

有時候，生活會用一種有趣的方式向我們展示什么是最好的。但正如那個算命人的話最終教會我的一樣，我們表達(dá)愛的方式不應(yīng)成為古怪的事情之一。