读过《台北人》
https://neodb.social/books/1081/
好想知道,白先勇是怎么观察到社会的方方面面的,好想知道
There is gonna become a day when freedom and content becomes boring. There is going to be times when you are weak and think about losses. When that day comes (if it has not already came), remember why you parted in the first place. Remember all the struggles and the heartbreaks you had gone through, and ask yourself to not idealize the past. Reminiscing the past is romantic and not at all wrong, but through that reminiscing, what you get should not be regret or grieve, but relief, the relief that you are out of this hell and able to idealize it, and the vigilance to not let the same thing happen again.
First of all, fuck you for not saying that earlier.
Secondly, my joy upon receiving the notion is beyond words. The past few days, despite or precisely because of their brevity, has been some of the happiest days in my life. I believe, with all of my narrow-mindedness, that even the greatest poet or writer, or whoever it may be, cannot describe my joy and content. Even if they did, they cannot show half the joy it brings. I will try to, however, describe my feeling upon receiving the letter. I no longer dream of you or cry at night. I feel a kind of placid content (which has nothing to do with the fact that you replied, but solely the content in your reply, which gives me closure. As a result, you can see that this joy is not ecstasy or euphoria, it is a sense of content, inner peace, and most importantly, freedom) in my heart that allows me to feel new things, at the same time immune to whatever I was dreaming of earlier -- something I have not felt for a year and a half. I guess you can say that I'm awake and unafraid.
Again for probably a million and one times, thank you for everything you did. I will always cherish our moment together. I feel that you are always with me, in a sense that I'm always carrying something I've learned from you. I may not know exactly what they are right now, but I'm sure they will reveal themselves some day. In the mean time, or for perpetuity,
ave atque vale.
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