264次理發(fā)、我的秘密和一段婚姻的結(jié)束

Elizabeth lofted the black cape as I watched it billow in front of me like a sheet blossoming on a clothesline. She fastened the buttons around my neck, placed her hands on either side of my head and whispered, “I can’t do this anymore.”

伊麗莎白揚起那個黑色的披肩，我看著它在我面前鼓脹著飄了起來，猶如晾衣繩上展開的床單。她系上我脖子周圍的扣子、把兩只手放在我腦袋的兩邊并低聲說，“我再也不能這么做了。”

“Do what?” I asked.

“做什么?”我問。

“This,” she said, gesturing around us. “I have to let you go.”

“這件事，”她一邊說，一邊在我們周圍打手勢。“我必須放你走。”

Still, she reached into a black case and pulled out scissors and a comb. The scent of freshly cut grass drifted through an open kitchen window along with the squeals of neighborhood children.

但她仍伸手從一個黑色的箱子里拿出了剪刀和一把梳子。剛剛修剪過的草坪散發(fā)出的氣味，連同鄰居家孩子的尖叫聲，透過一扇開著的廚房窗戶飄了進(jìn)來。

“Who will cut your hair?” she asked.

“以后誰給你理發(fā)?”她問。

I shrugged my shoulders.

我聳了聳肩。

For more than 22 years, roughly 264 haircuts, we had shared this ritual. She would run her hands through my hair, nudging my head forward and sideways, her fingers mere inches away from the secret thoughts and desires swirling inside of my skull.

在超過22年的時間里，大約理了264次發(fā)，這是我們共同的習(xí)慣。她會把雙手放進(jìn)我的頭發(fā)里，輕輕推著我的頭偏向前面和側(cè)面。她的手指距離在我腦海里翻騰的秘密和欲望只有咫尺之遙。

She pulled up a swath of hair with a comb and began to snip.

她用梳子挑起一綹頭發(fā)開始剪。

When we first met, in the 1980s, I wore my hair parted on the side, a preppy conservative look. On our second date, she swept back my bangs with her fingertips and offered to cut my hair for the first time. Over the years, clumps of my dark hair have slid down the cape and pooled on the kitchen floor. Eventually, the side part vanished and flecks of gray started to mingle with the black. Now, the hair that fell was mostly gray, peppered with black strands.

我們第一次見面是在80年代。當(dāng)時，我留著偏分的發(fā)型，看上去頗為傳統(tǒng)和保守。第二次約會時，她用指尖把我額前垂下的頭發(fā)撥了回去，并第一次主動提出要給我理發(fā)。這么多年過去了，我的一綹綹黑發(fā)沿著這塊披肩滑落，堆積在廚房的地上。最終，我的偏分發(fā)型消失了，黑發(fā)中開始夾雜著灰發(fā)?，F(xiàn)在，掉落的頭發(fā)中以灰發(fā)為主，夾雜著黑發(fā)。

“Do you have the clippers?” I asked.

“有推子嗎?”我問。

She reached into the case and pulled out the heavy Wahls. When she turned them on, they emitted a low electronic buzz.

她伸手從箱子里拿出那把沉重的華爾(Wahl)牌推子。她打開推子后，它發(fā)出一陣低沉的電子嗡嗡聲。

“Cut it all off,” I said.

“都剪了，”我說。

“What?”

“什么?”

“I want you to buzz it all off.”

“我想讓你把頭發(fā)都推了。”

If I didn’t have any hair, it wouldn’t matter that I no longer had her to cut it.

如果一根頭發(fā)都沒有了，不能再讓她給我理發(fā)也就無關(guān)緊要了。

“Go on,” I said. “Do it.”

“來吧，”我說。“動手吧。”

I watched the hair tumble onto the cape. Her breasts pressed against my shoulder as her hand brushed the hair from my head. And then I felt something wet fall on my cheek. I heard a sound, like a hiccup, and then I heard it again, but it was more like a sucking noise, like someone trying to catch a breath. Her tears began to fall.

我看著頭發(fā)落到披肩上。她把胸部靠在我的肩膀上，用一只手捋我的頭發(fā)。這時，我感覺到有濕漉漉的東西掉到我的臉頰上。我聽到一個聲音，像打嗝，然后又聽到了一聲，但它更像吸氣的聲音，就像人努力喘氣一樣。她的眼淚開始往下掉。

“Shh, it’s O.K.,” I said.

“噓，沒事的，”我說。

She stood back, her face red and blotchy. “It’s just that you look so different now.”

她往后站了站，臉色通紅，滿臉淚痕。”只是因為你現(xiàn)在看上去完全不一樣了。“

She held up a mirror, and I winced. “Oh man,” I said. There was something honest and bold about the look. “Shave off the rest.”

她拿起一面鏡子，我皺了皺眉。“哎呦，天哪，”我說。那個樣子有一種率直和大膽的感覺。“把剩下的也剃了。”

“But you’ll look like a cancer patient.”

“但那會讓你看起來像個癌癥病人。”

“It’s just hair.”

“只是頭發(fā)而已。”

She finished. As if my thoughts had been laid bare, too, she said: “You know I’m stronger now. I can make it on my own.”

她剃完了。像是我的想法也暴露在外了一樣，她說：“你知道的，我現(xiàn)在更堅強了。我自己能做到。”

“I know that,” I said.

“我知道，”我說。

For two months, ever since I moved out, we had been engaged in a weekend dance of me visiting to keep contact with our girls, staying in our home in Virginia as if nothing had changed. But everything had changed.

在我搬出去后的兩個月里，我們一到周末就要演戲。我會回家，以便保持和女兒的聯(lián)系，并住在我們位于弗吉尼亞州的家里，就像什么都沒變一樣。但一切都變了。

She rubbed lotion on my neck and pulled out the straight razor. I felt the cool metal on my skin as she nudged my head forward and down with her fingertips.

她把潤膚液抹在我的脖子上，并拿出了剃刀。在她用指尖輕輕推著我的頭往前和往下偏時，我感覺到了金屬接觸皮膚時傳來的涼意。

I closed my eyes. I could hear our 14-year-old daughter chattering on the telephone and laughter coming from the TV. Our dog’s claws clicked across the floor.

我閉上了眼睛，能聽到我們14歲的女兒在電話上聊天的聲音和從電視機(jī)里傳來的笑聲。我們那只狗的爪子在地上發(fā)出咔噠聲。

“I didn’t cheat on you,” I said, keeping my head down and my eyes closed.

“我沒有出過軌，”我說，依然低著頭，閉著眼。

The blade stood still for a moment, then skimmed down the back of my neck.

刀片停留了一會兒，然后移到了后勃頸。

“I had to get that H.I.V. test,” she said, “because you were acting so out of character.”

“我不得不做那個HIV檢測，”她說，“因為你表現(xiàn)得太反常了。”

I was offended when she had first told me this. How many times had we made love? Was it greater or fewer than the number of haircuts? Of course the test was negative. I could count on one hand the number of people I had been intimate with before her.

她第一次對我這么說時，我感到很惱火。我們做過多少次愛?比理發(fā)的次數(shù)多還是少?檢測結(jié)果當(dāng)然是陰性的。我用一只手就能數(shù)清在她之前，我和多少人有過親密接觸。

The first was my childhood neighbor in Greensboro, N.C. He and I were too young to understand our dark fumbling during sleepovers. In college, I lost my virginity to Sally, a red-haired flute player, in a rite of passage that I simply wanted to get over.

第一個是我童年時在北卡羅來納州格林斯伯勒的鄰居。那時他和我都還太小，不懂我們在外過夜時在黑暗中笨拙摸索的行為。上大學(xué)時，作為成年禮，我把自己的第一次給了一頭紅發(fā)的長笛演奏者薩利(Sally)。那時，我只是想跨過那一步。

When I was 20 and in Colorado for the summer with my aunt Sheila and her psychic girlfriend, I stumbled out of a bar on the edge of town walking arm in arm with Don, my aunt’s handsome young friend. Under the shadow of Pikes Peak, he and I kissed. I heard Sheila’s voice in the distance calling out, “He’s not sure if he’s gay yet, Don!”

20歲的時候，我與姨媽希拉(Sheila)和她那個靈媒女友在科羅拉多州避暑。我跌跌撞撞地走出位于城市邊緣的酒吧，和我姨媽年輕英俊的朋友唐(Don)相互挽著胳膊散步。在派克峰的陰影下，我們接吻了。我聽到希拉在遠(yuǎn)處大喊，“他還不確定自己是不是同性戀呢，唐!”

But I knew.

但我知道。

When I first started seeing Elizabeth, at 21, I told her about Sally but not Don. That part of my life was supposed to have been erased by conversion therapy, which involved me praying with my mother at the dining room table every day not to be the way I was.

21歲開始和伊麗莎白交往時，我就和她說了薩利的事，但沒有說唐的事情。我生命中的那一部分本應(yīng)該已經(jīng)被改變治療抹去了。在這種治療中，母親和我每天都會坐在餐桌旁，祈禱我不是那樣的。

The first time Elizabeth and I had sex was on a sofa in my brother’s off-campus apartment in Raleigh, N.C. Neither of us was a virgin, so there was no awkward fumbling, just as there was no passionate taboo. I recognized it for what it was; this was as good as it could get.

我和伊麗莎白第一次發(fā)生性關(guān)系是在我哥哥在北卡羅來納州羅利的校外公寓的沙發(fā)上。我們兩人都不是第一次，所以沒有令人尷尬的笨拙摸索，但同樣也沒有令人充滿激情的禁忌。我對那一次有著準(zhǔn)確的認(rèn)識，我已經(jīng)做到最好了。

For more than 22 years, after our daughters were born and as my hair became grayer and Elizabeth’s body became softer, I kept my secret locked away. Then, on a Wednesday night 10 years ago in a Walmart parking lot, Elizabeth saved me. “Are you gay?” she asked.

在超過22年的時間里，在我們的女兒出生后，隨著我的頭發(fā)變得更加灰白，伊麗莎白的身體變得更加柔軟，我藏起了自己的秘密。后來，十年前一個周三的晚上，在沃爾瑪(Walmart)的停車場里，伊麗莎白救了我。“你是同性戀嗎?”她問。

“I don’t want to be,” I said.

“我不想是，”我說。

Shortly after, our marriage ended, but while I was still making my weekend visits, there was Ray. On our second date, I ripped the clothing off his body. Afterward, he held up his pants and examined the broken zipper and popped button.

不久后，我們的婚姻結(jié)束了。在我依然會在周末回家期間，我遇到了雷(Ray)。第二次約會時，我扯下了他的衣服。事后，他拿起褲子檢查被扯壞的拉鏈和崩落的紐扣。

“Those were my favorite pants,” he said. I laughed. He did not.

“這是我最喜歡的褲子了，”他說。我笑了。他沒有。

Elizabeth brushed the hair from my shoulders and removed the cape. I stood up, put on my shirt, and pulled the broom from the kitchen closet to sweep up.

伊麗莎白掃掉我肩上的頭發(fā)，脫下了罩袍。我站起來，穿上襯衫，到廚房壁櫥拿來掃帚開始掃地。

When the girls went to bed, I wandered the house taking stock of things that were no longer mine. There on the dining room table was the blue metal pitcher we found in an antique shop in New Hampshire. This painting, above the brick mantel, was my 20th wedding anniversary gift to her. Here was the sofa where Elizabeth and I once lay side by side with a sleeping dog at our feet. The wooden floors creaked as I passed.

孩子們上床睡覺時，我在房子里四處走著，查看那些已經(jīng)不屬于我的東西。餐廳桌上有個藍(lán)色金屬水壺，是我們在新罕布什爾一家古玩行找到的。磚砌壁爐上方的畫，是我送給她的20周年結(jié)婚紀(jì)念禮物。伊麗莎白和我曾經(jīng)肩并肩坐在這沙發(fā)上，腳上躺著一條呼呼大睡的狗。木地板走起來會吱嘎作響。

When I reached the top of the stairs, Elizabeth stood motionless in the dark hall.

我走到樓梯盡頭時，伊麗莎白站在黑暗的廳里一動不動。

“Can I sleep with you, just sleep, this one last night?” I asked.

“這是最后一晚了，我可以和你一起睡嗎?只是睡覺，”我問。

“Don’t wake me in the morning,” she said.

“早上不要叫醒我，”她說。

She removed her nightgown. I took off my shirt.

她脫掉睡衣。我脫掉襯衫。

That was her side of the bed, and this used to be mine. Here was the blue comforter where we cradled our newborn girls. These were the pillows flattened with use.

她曾經(jīng)睡在床的這一邊，這張床曾經(jīng)是我的。我們曾用這條藍(lán)色的厚被包裹我們新生的女兒。這些枕頭已經(jīng)被我們用得扁平。

I lay awake on my back. She rested her hand on my neck. I turned to my right side, and she to her left as we twisted in our bittersweet ballet of goodbye.

我仰面躺著，無法入睡。她把手放在我的脖子上。我轉(zhuǎn)向右邊，她轉(zhuǎn)向左邊，我們在這支悲喜交集的告別芭蕾中扭曲著身體。

In the grainy morning light, I closed the bedroom door and tiptoed to my daughters’ rooms. This was Sophie’s. Those were the boxes filled with her dolls. I tucked her dark hair behind her ear and kissed her warm cheek.

在微熹的晨光中，我關(guān)上臥室的門，躡手躡腳地走進(jìn)女兒們的房間。這是蘇菲的房間。那些盒子里裝滿了她的娃娃。我把她的黑發(fā)拂到她耳后，親吻她溫暖的臉頰。

Here was Marisa’s. These were her glasses. I picked them up and cleaned them with the tail of my shirt.

這是瑪麗薩的房間。那是她的眼鏡。我拿起它，用我的襯衫下擺擦拭。

“I’m just going to work now,” I muttered, a half-truth in the half-light.

“我現(xiàn)在要去工作了，”暗淡的光線之下，我嘟囔著半真半假的話。

This, behind me, was the house full of secrets, and here before me was the path that lay ahead. This is what I left: an empty chair at the table, the scent of my skin on the sheets, an old painting, a sleeping dog, a blue pitcher, my lingering shadow on the front steps before I let go.

留在我身后的是一棟充滿秘密的房子，擺在我面前的則是通往前方的道路。這些都是我留下來的：桌邊的一把空椅子、我的皮膚留在床單上的氣味、一幅老畫、一只睡眼惺忪的狗、一個藍(lán)色的水壺，我放手之前徘徊在門前臺階上的陰影。

We’re inviting college students nationwide to open their hearts and laptops and write an essay about what love is like for them. In our previous contests, which attracted thousands of entries from students at hundreds of colleges and universities, the winning essays explored ambivalence about hooking up, the way technology is changing how we connect, and the impact an aversion to labels can have on relationships.

我們誠邀全國大學(xué)生敞開心扉，打開筆記本電腦，寫一篇講述愛的文章。在我們以前的比賽中，數(shù)百所大學(xué)和學(xué)院的學(xué)生送來成千上萬的參賽作品，獲獎文章探討了關(guān)于交往的矛盾情緒，科技給我們聯(lián)絡(luò)彼此的方式帶來的改變，以及對標(biāo)簽的厭惡會對親密關(guān)系產(chǎn)生影響。

What will be on students’ minds this year?

今年的學(xué)生們在想些什么?

If you have a story that illustrates the current state of love and relationships, email it to us at [email protected], along with your name, college, graduation year, email address and phone number. The winning author will receive $1,000 and his or her essay will be published in a special Modern Love column in late April.

如果你有一個故事，可以闡明愛情與親密關(guān)系當(dāng)前的狀態(tài)，[email protected]，[email protected]?電話號碼。獲獎作者將獲得1000美元，他或她的文章將于4月下旬在“現(xiàn)代愛情”特別專欄上發(fā)表。

Contest details appear at nytimes.com/essaycontest. For more information, follow Modern Love on Facebook and the Modern Love editor on Twitter.

比賽詳情見nytimes.com/essaycontest。更多信息請關(guān)注Facebook上的Modern Love和Twitter上的Modern Love編輯。