心灵鸡汤:爱情这部电话
PLEASE, God, let him telephone me now. Dear God, let him call me now. I won\'t ask anything else of You, truly I won\'t. It isn\'t very much to ask. It would be so little to You, God, such a little, little thing. Only let him telephone now. Please, God. Please, please, please. If I didn\'t think about it, maybe the telephone might ring. Sometimes it does that. If I could think of something else. If I could think of something else. Maybe if I counted five hundred by fives, it might ring by that time. I\'ll count slowly. I won\'t cheat. And if it rings when I get to three hundred, I won\'t stop； I won\'t answer it until I get to five hundred. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five, forty, forty-five, fifty. Oh, please ring. Please. This is the last time I\'ll look at the clock. I will not look at it again. It\'s ten minutes past seven. He said he would telephone at five o\'clock. "I\'ll call you at five, darling." I think that\'s where he said "darling." I\'m almost sure he said it there. I know he called me "darling" twice, and the other time was when he said good-bye. "Good-bye, darling." He was busy, and he can\'t say much in the office, but he called me "darling" twice. He couldn\'t have minded my calling him up. I know you shouldn\'t keep telephoning them? I know they don\'t like that. When you do that they know you are thinking about them and wanting them, and that makes them hate you. But I hadn\'t talked to him in three days? not in three days. And all I did was ask him how he was； it was just the way anybody might have called him up. He couldn\'t have minded that. He couldn\'t have thought I was bothering him. "No, of course you\'re not," he said. And he said he\'d telephone me. He didn\'t have to say that. I didn\'t ask him to, truly I didn\'t. I\'m sure I didn\'t. I don\'t think he would say he\'d telephone me, and then just never do it. Please don\'t let him do that, God. Please don\'t. "I\'ll call you at five, darling." "Good-bye, darling." He was busy, and he was in a hurry, and there were people around him, but he called me "darling" twice. That\'s mine, that\'s mine. I have that, even if I never see him again. Oh, but that\'s so little. That isn\'t enough. Nothing\'s enough, if I never see him again. Please let me see him again, God. Please, I want him so much. I want him so much. I\'ll be good, God. I will try to be better, I will, If you will let me see him again. If You will let him telephone me. Oh, let him telephone me now. Ah, don\'t let my prayer seem too little to You, God. You sit up there, so white and old, with all the angels about You and the stars slipping by. And I come to You with a prayer about a telephone call. Ah, don\'t laugh, God. You see, You don\'t know how it feels. You\'re so safe, there on Your throne, with the blue swirling under You. Nothing can touch You； no one can twist Your heart in his hands. This is suffering, God, this is bad, bad suffering. Won\'t You help me? For Your Son\'s sake, help me. You said You would do whatever was asked of You in His name. Oh, God, in the name of Thine only beloved Son, Jesus Christ, our Lord, let him telephone me now. I must stop this. I mustn\'t be this way. Look. Suppose a young man says he\'ll call a girl up, and then something happens, and he doesn\'t. That isn\'t so terrible, is it? Why, it\'s going on all over the world, right this minute. Oh, what do I care what\'s going on all over the world? Why can\'t that telephone ring? Why can\'t it, why can\'t it? Couldn\'t you ring? Ah, please, couldn\'t you? You damned, ugly, shiny thing. It would hurt you to ring, wouldn\'t it? Oh, that would hurt you. Damn you, I\'ll pull your filthy roots out of the wall, I\'ll smash your smug black face in little bits. Damn you to hell. No, no, no. I must stop. I must think about something else. This is what I\'ll do. I\'ll put the clock in the other room. Then I can\'t look at it. If I do have to look at it, then I\'ll have to walk into the bedroom, and that will be something to do. Maybe, before I look at it again, he will call me. I\'ll be so sweet to him, if he calls me. If he says he can\'t see me tonight, I\'ll say, "Why, that\'s all right, dear. Why, of course it\'s all right." I\'ll be the way I was when I first met him. Then maybe he\'ll like me again. I was always sweet, at first. Oh, it\'s so easy to be sweet to people before you love them. I think he must still like me a little. He couldn\'t have called me "darling" twice today, if he didn\'t still like me a little. It isn\'t all gone, if he still likes me a little； even if it\'s only a little, little bit. You see, God, if You would just let him telephone me, I wouldn\'t have to ask You anything more. I would be sweet to him, I would be gay, I would be just the way I used to be, and then he would love me again. And then I would never have to ask You for anything more. Don\'t You see, God? So won\'t You please let him telephone me? Won\'t You please, please, please? Are You punishing me, God, because I\'ve been bad? Are You angry with me because I did that? Oh, but, God, there are so many bad people ? You could not be hard only to me. And it wasn\'t very bad； it couldn\'t have been bad. We didn\'t hurt anybody, God. Things are only bad when they hurt people. We didn\'t hurt one single soul； You know that. You know it wasn\'t bad, don\'t You, God? So won\'t You let him telephone me now? If he doesn\'t telephone me, I\'ll know God is angry with me. I\'ll count five hundred by fives, and if he hasn\'t called me then, I will know God isn\'t going to help me, ever again. That will be the sign. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five, forty, forty-five, fifty, fifty-five It was bad. I knew it was bad. All right, God, send me to hell. You think You\'re frightening me with Your hell, don\'t You? You think. Your hell is worse than mine.
I mustn\'t. I mustn\'t do this. Suppose he\'s a little late calling me up? that\'s nothing to get hysterical about. Maybe he isn\'t going to call ?maybe he\'s coming straight up here without telephoning. He\'ll be cross if he sees I have been crying. they don\'t like you to cry. He doesn\'t cry. I wish to God I could make him cry. I wish I could make him cry and tread the floor and feel his heart heavy and big and festering in him. I wish I could hurt him like hell. He doesn\'t wish that about me. I don\'t think he even knows how he makes me feel. I wish he could know, without my telling him. they don\'t like you to tell them they\'ve made you cry. They don\'t like you to tell them you\'re unhappy because of them. If you do, they think you\'re possessive and exacting. And then they hate you. They hate you whenever you say anything you really think. You always have to keep playing little games. Oh, I thought we didn\'t have to； I thought this was so big I could say whatever I meant. I guess you can\'t, ever. I guess there isn\'t ever anything big enough for that. Oh, if he would just telephone, I wouldn\'t tell him I had been sad about him. They hate sad people. I would be so sweet and so gay, he couldn\'t help but like me. If he would only telephone. If he would only telephone.
maybe that\'s what he is doing. Maybe he is coming on here without calling me up. Maybe he\'s on his way now. Something might have happened to him. No, nothing could ever happen to him. I can\'t picture anything happening to him. I never picture him run over. I never see him lying still and long and dead. I wish he were dead. That\'s a terrible wish. That\'s a lovely wish. If he were dead, he would be mine. If he were dead, I would never think of now and the last few weeks. I would remember only the lovely times. It would be all beautiful. I wish he were dead. I wish he were dead, dead, dead. This is silly. It\'s silly to go wishing people were dead just because they don\'t call you up the very minute they said they would. Maybe the clock\'s fast； I don\'t know whether it\'s right. Maybe he\'s hardly late at all. Anything could have made him a little late. Maybe he had to stay at his office. Maybe he went home, to call me up from there, and somebody came in. He doesn\'t like to telephone me in front of people. Maybe he\'s worried, just a little, little bit, about keeping me waiting. He might even hope that I would call him up. I could do that. I could telephone him. I mustn\'t. I mustn\'t, I mustn\'t. Oh, God, please don\'t let me telephone him. Please keep me from doing that. I know, God, just as well as You do, that if he were worried about me, he\'d telephone no matter where he was or how many people there were around him. Please make me know that, God. I don\'t ask YOU to make it easy for me ? You can\'t do that, for all that You could make a world. Only let me know it, God. Don\'t let me go on hoping. Don\'t let me say comforting things to myself. Please don\'t let me hope, dear God. Please don\'t. I won\'t telephone him. I\'ll never telephone him again as long as I live. He\'ll rot in hell, before I\'ll call him up. You don\'t have to give me strength, God； I have it myself. If he wanted me, he could get me. He knows where I am. He knows I\'m waiting here. He\'s so sure of me, so sure. I wonder why they hate you, as soon as they are sure of you. I should think it would be so sweet to be sure. It would be so easy to telephone him. then I\'d know. Maybe it wouldn\'t be a foolish thing to do. Maybe he wouldn\'t mind. Maybe he\'d like it. Maybe he has been trying to get me. Sometimes people try and try to get you on the telephone, and they say the number doesn\'t answer. I\'m not just saying that to help myself； that really happens. You know that really happens, God. Oh, God, keep me away from that telephone. Keep me away. Let me still have just a little bit of pride. I think I\'m going to need it, God. I think it will be all I\'ll have. Oh, what does pride matter, when I can\'t stand it if I don\'t talk to him? Pride like that is such a silly, shabby little thing. the real pride, the big pride, is in having no pride. I\'m not saying that just because I want to call him. I am not. That\'s true, I know that\'s true. I will be big. I will be beyond little prides. Please, God, keep me from, telephoning him. Please, God. I don\'t see what pride has to do with it. This is such a little thing, for me to be bringing in pride, for me to be making such a fuss about. I may have misunderstood him. Maybe he said for me to call him up, at five. "Call me at five, darling." He could have said that, perfectly well. It\'s so possible that I didn\'t hear him right. "Call me at five, darling." I\'m almost sure that\'s what he said. God, don\'t let me talk this way to myself. Make me know, please make me know. I\'ll think about something else. I\'ll just sit quietly. If I could sit still. If I could sit still. Maybe I could read. Oh, all the books are about people who love each other, truly and sweetly. What do they want to write about that for? Don\'t they know it isn\'t true? Don\'t they know it\'s a lie, it\'s a God damned lie? What do they have to tell about that for, when they know how it hurts? Damn them, damn them, damn them. I won\'t. I\'ll be quiet. This is nothing to get excited about. Look. Suppose he were someone I didn\'t know very well. Suppose he were another girl. Then I\'d just telephone and say, "Well, for goodness\' sake, what happened to you?" That\'s what I\'d do, and I\'d never even think about it. Why can\'t I be casual and natural, just because I love him? I can be. Honestly, I can be. I\'ll call him up, and be so easy and pleasant. You see if I won\'t, God. Oh, don\'t let me call him. Don\'t, don\'t, don\'t. God, aren\'t You really going to let him call me? Are You sure, God? Couldn\'t You please relent? Couldn\'t You? I don\'t even ask You to let him telephone me this minute, God； only let him do it in a little while. I\'ll count five hundred by fives. I\'ll do it so slowly and so fairly. If he hasn\'t telephoned then, I\'ll call him. I will. Oh, please, dear God, dear kind God, my blessed Father in Heaven, let him call before then. Please, God. Please. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five. 上帝啊，让他现在就给我打电话吧。我的上帝啊，让他现在就呼我吧。我将不再向你苛求，真的，不再苛求什么。这个要求一点儿也不过分。上帝，对你来说这简直就是小菜一碟，举手之劳。我只要他现在就给我来电话。求求你了，苍天啊。阿米驼佛，阿米驼佛，阿米驼佛。 要是我不惦记着他的电话，或许电话真的就会来。有时就是如此。也许我该想想别的什么。也许我该想想别的什么。也许我一五一十地数到500，电话就会响了。我要慢慢数。不会数快不会漏数。要是我数到三百电话就响了，我也不会停下来；直到数到五百我再接电话。五，十，十五，二十，二十五，三十，三十五，四十，四十五，五十 哦，给我打电话吧。求你了。 这是我最后一次看时间。我不会再看二次。现在时刻七点过十分。他说五点会给我打电话。“宝贝，我五点给你打电话。”我想他说了“宝贝。”我差不多可以肯定他说过。我知道他叫过我两次“宝贝”，另一次是他走的时候。“再见，宝贝。”他很忙，在办公室里又无法深唠，但他确实叫过我两次“宝贝”。他可能不介意我给他打电话。我知道人不能总是给别人打电话，不是吗？因为别人不喜欢总接到电话。要是你老打电话，别人就会明白你寻思他们想利用他们，这会令人们厌恶你。可我已经有三天没和他说话了，不是吗？三天没说话了啊。就像别人打给他的电话一样，我只是问问他可好。他不会介意的。他不会认为我打扰了他。“不，你当然没打扰我，”他说。而且，他会说，我本该给你打电话的。 他真的不必那么说。我没要他打给我，真的，我没有。我相信我没让他打给我。我没想到他会说他本该打给我，只是他从没主动打给我。上帝啊，请别让他那么干。千万别。 “宝贝，我五点给你打电话。”“再见，宝贝。”他很忙，他确实很忙，总有一群人围着他，但他确实叫过我两次“宝贝”。那是在对我说，对我说啊。如果我再也见不到他了，那句宝贝也是对我说的。哎，可惜就这么两句。远远不够。如果我再也见不到他了，说什么都不足以弥补。上帝啊，请让我能再见到他吧。拜托了，我是如此地需要他。需要他。上帝啊，我会对你服服帖帖。我会更加虔诚，只要你让我还能再见到他。要是您能让他给我打电话。哎，让他现在就给我打电话。 啊上帝，别把我的祈祷看得太微不足道。你端坐在那里，身边围绕着天使，你是显得如此光彩威严就连群星也黯然失色。而我只是向您祈求一个电话而已。啊上帝，别笑话我。您知道，您理解不了这种感觉。您那么安全，端坐在您的御座上，俯临着袅袅晴空。不为万物所动；谁也别想折磨您的内心。上帝，这简直就是受罪，一种相当相当痛苦的苦难。您能不能救救我？以耶稣的名义，救救我。您说过您愿意满足以他的名义提出的任何要求。哦，上帝，以你深爱着的儿子耶稣基督的名义，我的上帝，让他现在给我打电话吧。 我不能再这样下去了。我必须摆脱这种状态。看。假设一个青年说他会给一个女孩子打电话，随后发生了什么事情，于是他没能打成电话。这并没什么可怕的，不是吗？噢！这样的事全世界都在发生，此时就有。哦，我关心世界上发生的什么呢？为什么我的电话就不能响起呢？为什么，它为什么不响？你就不能打个电话吗？啊，拜托了，能不能打个电话？你这死鬼，邪恶乖滑的东西。打个电话能让你损失什么吗？哦，给我打电话一定会损失你什么的。该死的，我要把你肮脏的插头从墙上拔出来，把你得意洋洋的黑脸砸成碎片。你下地狱吧。 不，不，不要。我不能再这样下去了。我必须想点儿别的东西。想点儿别的，这就是我要干的事儿。我要把钟表放到另一个屋子里去。这样我就看不见它了。要是我必须看一眼时间，那我就必须步入卧室，那样就会有点儿事情来做。也许，在我再次看表前，他就会给我打电话。要是他给我打电话，我会对他温柔些许。要是他说今晚他不能见我，我就说，“噢！没关系，亲爱的。噢！当然没事儿。”我会表现的就像初次遇见他一样。或许他会再次喜欢上我。我起先总是很温柔。哦，在你爱上他人之前，很容易对他们表现得温柔。 我想他一定还有点喜欢我。他要不是对我又那么一点喜欢，今天就不会叫我两次“宝贝儿”了。要是他还有点儿喜欢我，即使只那么一点点，一点点，这一切就还没结束。您看，上帝，要是您能让他给我打电话，我就不会向您要求这么多了。我会对他温柔，我会很开心，我会像往常的我一样，而他也会再次爱上我。那样我就不会向您祈求任何事。上帝，您明白吗？所以拜托了，您能让他给我打电话不？拜托您了，拜托，拜托了。 上帝，您是因为我已经和他发生关系而惩罚我吗？您为我那样的行为而生我的气吗？哦，可是，上帝，有那么多人都是如此啊？您不能针对我一个人这么苛刻。这也不是十分糟；但本不该如此的啊。我俩没有伤害任何人啊，上帝。只有伤害人的事儿是错的。我们没有损害哪怕是一个人；您知道的。您知道我们没干坏事，您知道吗? 所以拜托了，您能让他给我打电话不？ 要是他没打电话，我就明白了上帝您是在生我的气。我要一五一十地数到500，要是他还没给我打电话，那就是上帝不打算再帮我了。不来电话就是不帮我的预兆。五，十，十五，二十，二十五，三十，三十五，四十，四十五，五十，五十五 这可真糟心。我知道这很闹心。好吧，上帝，把我送往地狱吧。您以为我会害怕地狱，是吗？您会以为您掌控的地狱比我现在所身处的地狱更残酷。
我不可以。我不可以这样。假如他只是稍晚了一些给我打电话，这不值得这么歇斯底里。也许他压根就没想打电话给我？也许他不打电话直接奔过来呢。要是他看见我哭过，他会生气的。男人不喜欢女人哭哭啼啼的。他从不哭鼻子。上帝，希望我能让他哭一次鼻子。但愿我能让他哭，让他在地板上走来走去，感觉到心情沉重、痛楚不堪。但愿我能像地狱一样折磨他。 他不会希望那样折磨我的。我想他甚至不了解他给我的感觉。但愿不用我向他倾诉，他就能了解。男人不喜欢听女孩子说是他们把人家弄哭。男人也不喜欢听女孩子说不快是由于他们。要是你那样做了，他们会认为你占有欲太强、太苛刻。尔后，他们就会厌恶你。不管你说什么，即使是真情实感，他们也会感到厌恶。你永远只能耍一点小把戏。哦，我想我们之间没必要耍性子；我想这已经远远超出了我想要说的。我猜你也不曾和我耍性子。我猜我们之间也没有不能谈的事情。哦，要是他刚好打电话过来，我是不会对他说我为他而难过的。男人厌恶伤感的人。我还会温柔快乐，他会情不自禁喜欢上我。假如他能打个电话。假如他能打个电话。 或许他也在等电话。也许他不打电话给我直接奔过来呢。或许他现在正在来这儿的路上。也许发生了什么意外。不，什么意外也不会发生。我想象不出在他身上会出什么意外。我从未想象过他被车撞倒。我从没见过他静静地躺在那里僵直死去。但愿他已死了。这可真是个坏透腔的祝愿。这又是个美好的祝愿。要是他死了，他就是我的了。要是他死了，我就不会在过去几周里一直思前想后到现在了。我只会记得美好的时光。所有的回忆都将是美好的。但愿他已死了。但愿他已死了，死了，已经死了。 这真无聊。仅因为别人不在他所承诺的时刻给我打电话就咒人家死，真无聊。或许是时钟快了；我不知道时间准不准。或许他压根就没晚。任何事情都可能让他迟些打电话过来。或许他必须留在办公室。或许他回家了，会从那里打过来，而这时进来了一个人。他不愿在外人面前给我打电话。或许让我一直这么等着，他有那么一点担心，就那么一点点儿。他甚至希望我给他打过去。我可以给他打。我可以给他打过去。 我不可以。我不可，我不可。哦，上帝啊，请不要让我给他打电话。请别让我那么做。上帝，我和您同样明白，要是他担心我，无论他身处何处，不论周围有多少人，他都会给我打电话的。上帝，让我清醒吧。我不是要求您给我一个了断。我不能那样，尽管您有创造世界的能力。却唯独只让我看破这件事。别让我继续希翼了。别让我再自我安慰了。请别让我继续希望了，亲爱的上帝。千万别。 我不会给他打过去。我有生之年决不会再给他打电话了。在我给他打电话之前，他早就朽蚀在地狱里了。你不必赐予我力量，上帝；我本来有力量。要是他想我的话，他就能找到我。他知道到哪儿能找到我。他知道我在这里守候。他是如此地确信，如此地确信。男人一旦能拿准你，他们就会厌恶你，我不知道这是为什么。我该想到这点是如此地明确。 给他打个电话是如此地容易。于是我就会明白。或许给他打过去并非显得那么蠢。或许他不会介意。或许他喜欢我给他打过去。或许他想拿住我。有时人们总是在电话上拿你一下，他们总会说给你打电话没人接。我并不是说说让自己解脱；真有这样的事儿。上帝，您知道真有这样的事儿。哦，上帝，让我离电话远一点儿吧。让我远离它。让我保有那么一丁点儿的自尊。上帝，我想我要保有一点儿自尊。我想这就是我所要做的。 哦，当我忍受不了这种不能和他谈话的时刻，留点儿自尊又能怎么样呢？那样的自尊是如此地毫无意义，如此地猥琐。真正的自尊是底气十足的自尊，是根本不需要自尊的自尊。我并不是在说我只是想给他打电话。我没有。这是真的，我知道这是真的。我会底气十足。我会超越渺小卑微的自尊。 上帝，拜托了，让我远离电话吧。求求你了，上帝啊。 我看不出自尊与电话有什么关系。这是件琐事，可却会我给我带来自尊，会让我对此大惊小怪。也许我误会他了。或许他说的是让我五点时给他打电话。“五点钟给我打电话，宝贝。” 他可以是这么说的。很可能我没听清他是怎么说的。“五点钟给我打电话，宝贝。” 我只能大概确定他说的话。上帝，别让我这么自言自语了。上帝，让我清醒吧，让我清醒吧。 我必须想点儿别的事儿。我就静坐好了。要是我能坐得住的话。要是我能坐得住的话。或许我可以读书。哦，我要看尽所有纪实描写人们彼此甜蜜相爱的书。相爱的人们都会写些什么呢？他们不知道有些不是真的吗？他们不知道有些东西是谎言，一个上帝的大谎话吗？当他们明白爱情带来的伤害，他们又会写些什么？去他们的，去他们的，去他们的吧。
我不会去看这些描写爱情的书。我要静一下。没什么值得激动的。看。假如他是个我不认识的什么人该多好。假如他是个女的。我只是正好打电话说，“哈喽，没什么事儿，你忙什么呢？”我就该这么办，而且对此不必多想。仅仅因为爱他，我为什么不能随便自然些？我可以自然随便些。真的，我可以自然随便些。我要给他打电话，要很随便轻松。上帝，您知道我办不到。哦，别让我打电话给他。不，不，不要。 上帝，您并不是真心想让他给我打电话，对吗？上帝，您确信吗？您能不能发发慈悲？您就不能发发慈悲吗？上帝，我不是求您让他现在就给我打电话；我只是求您让他一会儿能给我打过来。我会一五一十地数到500。我要慢慢仔细地数。要是数完他还不给我打电话，我就打过去。我会打过去的。哦，拜托了，亲爱的上帝，亲爱仁慈的上帝，在天国佐佑我的主啊，让他先打过来吧。求求你了，上帝啊。求你了。 五，十，十五，二十，二十五，三十，三十五，四十，四十五，五十
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I mustn\'t. I mustn\'t do this. Suppose he\'s a little late calling me up? that\'s nothing to get hysterical about. Maybe he isn\'t going to call ?maybe he\'s coming straight up here without telephoning. He\'ll be cross if he sees I have been crying. they don\'t like you to cry. He doesn\'t cry. I wish to God I could make him cry. I wish I could make him cry and tread the floor and feel his heart heavy and big and festering in him. I wish I could hurt him like hell. He doesn\'t wish that about me. I don\'t think he even knows how he makes me feel. I wish he could know, without my telling him. they don\'t like you to tell them they\'ve made you cry. They don\'t like you to tell them you\'re unhappy because of them. If you do, they think you\'re possessive and exacting. And then they hate you. They hate you whenever you say anything you really think. You always have to keep playing little games. Oh, I thought we didn\'t have to； I thought this was so big I could say whatever I meant. I guess you can\'t, ever. I guess there isn\'t ever anything big enough for that. Oh, if he would just telephone, I wouldn\'t tell him I had been sad about him. They hate sad people. I would be so sweet and so gay, he couldn\'t help but like me. If he would only telephone. If he would only telephone.
maybe that\'s what he is doing. Maybe he is coming on here without calling me up. Maybe he\'s on his way now. Something might have happened to him. No, nothing could ever happen to him. I can\'t picture anything happening to him. I never picture him run over. I never see him lying still and long and dead. I wish he were dead. That\'s a terrible wish. That\'s a lovely wish. If he were dead, he would be mine. If he were dead, I would never think of now and the last few weeks. I would remember only the lovely times. It would be all beautiful. I wish he were dead. I wish he were dead, dead, dead. This is silly. It\'s silly to go wishing people were dead just because they don\'t call you up the very minute they said they would. Maybe the clock\'s fast； I don\'t know whether it\'s right. Maybe he\'s hardly late at all. Anything could have made him a little late. Maybe he had to stay at his office. Maybe he went home, to call me up from there, and somebody came in. He doesn\'t like to telephone me in front of people. Maybe he\'s worried, just a little, little bit, about keeping me waiting. He might even hope that I would call him up. I could do that. I could telephone him. I mustn\'t. I mustn\'t, I mustn\'t. Oh, God, please don\'t let me telephone him. Please keep me from doing that. I know, God, just as well as You do, that if he were worried about me, he\'d telephone no matter where he was or how many people there were around him. Please make me know that, God. I don\'t ask YOU to make it easy for me ? You can\'t do that, for all that You could make a world. Only let me know it, God. Don\'t let me go on hoping. Don\'t let me say comforting things to myself. Please don\'t let me hope, dear God. Please don\'t. I won\'t telephone him. I\'ll never telephone him again as long as I live. He\'ll rot in hell, before I\'ll call him up. You don\'t have to give me strength, God； I have it myself. If he wanted me, he could get me. He knows where I am. He knows I\'m waiting here. He\'s so sure of me, so sure. I wonder why they hate you, as soon as they are sure of you. I should think it would be so sweet to be sure. It would be so easy to telephone him. then I\'d know. Maybe it wouldn\'t be a foolish thing to do. Maybe he wouldn\'t mind. Maybe he\'d like it. Maybe he has been trying to get me. Sometimes people try and try to get you on the telephone, and they say the number doesn\'t answer. I\'m not just saying that to help myself； that really happens. You know that really happens, God. Oh, God, keep me away from that telephone. Keep me away. Let me still have just a little bit of pride. I think I\'m going to need it, God. I think it will be all I\'ll have. Oh, what does pride matter, when I can\'t stand it if I don\'t talk to him? Pride like that is such a silly, shabby little thing. the real pride, the big pride, is in having no pride. I\'m not saying that just because I want to call him. I am not. That\'s true, I know that\'s true. I will be big. I will be beyond little prides. Please, God, keep me from, telephoning him. Please, God. I don\'t see what pride has to do with it. This is such a little thing, for me to be bringing in pride, for me to be making such a fuss about. I may have misunderstood him. Maybe he said for me to call him up, at five. "Call me at five, darling." He could have said that, perfectly well. It\'s so possible that I didn\'t hear him right. "Call me at five, darling." I\'m almost sure that\'s what he said. God, don\'t let me talk this way to myself. Make me know, please make me know. I\'ll think about something else. I\'ll just sit quietly. If I could sit still. If I could sit still. Maybe I could read. Oh, all the books are about people who love each other, truly and sweetly. What do they want to write about that for? Don\'t they know it isn\'t true? Don\'t they know it\'s a lie, it\'s a God damned lie? What do they have to tell about that for, when they know how it hurts? Damn them, damn them, damn them. I won\'t. I\'ll be quiet. This is nothing to get excited about. Look. Suppose he were someone I didn\'t know very well. Suppose he were another girl. Then I\'d just telephone and say, "Well, for goodness\' sake, what happened to you?" That\'s what I\'d do, and I\'d never even think about it. Why can\'t I be casual and natural, just because I love him? I can be. Honestly, I can be. I\'ll call him up, and be so easy and pleasant. You see if I won\'t, God. Oh, don\'t let me call him. Don\'t, don\'t, don\'t. God, aren\'t You really going to let him call me? Are You sure, God? Couldn\'t You please relent? Couldn\'t You? I don\'t even ask You to let him telephone me this minute, God； only let him do it in a little while. I\'ll count five hundred by fives. I\'ll do it so slowly and so fairly. If he hasn\'t telephoned then, I\'ll call him. I will. Oh, please, dear God, dear kind God, my blessed Father in Heaven, let him call before then. Please, God. Please. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five. 上帝啊，让他现在就给我打电话吧。我的上帝啊，让他现在就呼我吧。我将不再向你苛求，真的，不再苛求什么。这个要求一点儿也不过分。上帝，对你来说这简直就是小菜一碟，举手之劳。我只要他现在就给我来电话。求求你了，苍天啊。阿米驼佛，阿米驼佛，阿米驼佛。 要是我不惦记着他的电话，或许电话真的就会来。有时就是如此。也许我该想想别的什么。也许我该想想别的什么。也许我一五一十地数到500，电话就会响了。我要慢慢数。不会数快不会漏数。要是我数到三百电话就响了，我也不会停下来；直到数到五百我再接电话。五，十，十五，二十，二十五，三十，三十五，四十，四十五，五十 哦，给我打电话吧。求你了。 这是我最后一次看时间。我不会再看二次。现在时刻七点过十分。他说五点会给我打电话。“宝贝，我五点给你打电话。”我想他说了“宝贝。”我差不多可以肯定他说过。我知道他叫过我两次“宝贝”，另一次是他走的时候。“再见，宝贝。”他很忙，在办公室里又无法深唠，但他确实叫过我两次“宝贝”。他可能不介意我给他打电话。我知道人不能总是给别人打电话，不是吗？因为别人不喜欢总接到电话。要是你老打电话，别人就会明白你寻思他们想利用他们，这会令人们厌恶你。可我已经有三天没和他说话了，不是吗？三天没说话了啊。就像别人打给他的电话一样，我只是问问他可好。他不会介意的。他不会认为我打扰了他。“不，你当然没打扰我，”他说。而且，他会说，我本该给你打电话的。 他真的不必那么说。我没要他打给我，真的，我没有。我相信我没让他打给我。我没想到他会说他本该打给我，只是他从没主动打给我。上帝啊，请别让他那么干。千万别。 “宝贝，我五点给你打电话。”“再见，宝贝。”他很忙，他确实很忙，总有一群人围着他，但他确实叫过我两次“宝贝”。那是在对我说，对我说啊。如果我再也见不到他了，那句宝贝也是对我说的。哎，可惜就这么两句。远远不够。如果我再也见不到他了，说什么都不足以弥补。上帝啊，请让我能再见到他吧。拜托了，我是如此地需要他。需要他。上帝啊，我会对你服服帖帖。我会更加虔诚，只要你让我还能再见到他。要是您能让他给我打电话。哎，让他现在就给我打电话。 啊上帝，别把我的祈祷看得太微不足道。你端坐在那里，身边围绕着天使，你是显得如此光彩威严就连群星也黯然失色。而我只是向您祈求一个电话而已。啊上帝，别笑话我。您知道，您理解不了这种感觉。您那么安全，端坐在您的御座上，俯临着袅袅晴空。不为万物所动；谁也别想折磨您的内心。上帝，这简直就是受罪，一种相当相当痛苦的苦难。您能不能救救我？以耶稣的名义，救救我。您说过您愿意满足以他的名义提出的任何要求。哦，上帝，以你深爱着的儿子耶稣基督的名义，我的上帝，让他现在给我打电话吧。 我不能再这样下去了。我必须摆脱这种状态。看。假设一个青年说他会给一个女孩子打电话，随后发生了什么事情，于是他没能打成电话。这并没什么可怕的，不是吗？噢！这样的事全世界都在发生，此时就有。哦，我关心世界上发生的什么呢？为什么我的电话就不能响起呢？为什么，它为什么不响？你就不能打个电话吗？啊，拜托了，能不能打个电话？你这死鬼，邪恶乖滑的东西。打个电话能让你损失什么吗？哦，给我打电话一定会损失你什么的。该死的，我要把你肮脏的插头从墙上拔出来，把你得意洋洋的黑脸砸成碎片。你下地狱吧。 不，不，不要。我不能再这样下去了。我必须想点儿别的东西。想点儿别的，这就是我要干的事儿。我要把钟表放到另一个屋子里去。这样我就看不见它了。要是我必须看一眼时间，那我就必须步入卧室，那样就会有点儿事情来做。也许，在我再次看表前，他就会给我打电话。要是他给我打电话，我会对他温柔些许。要是他说今晚他不能见我，我就说，“噢！没关系，亲爱的。噢！当然没事儿。”我会表现的就像初次遇见他一样。或许他会再次喜欢上我。我起先总是很温柔。哦，在你爱上他人之前，很容易对他们表现得温柔。 我想他一定还有点喜欢我。他要不是对我又那么一点喜欢，今天就不会叫我两次“宝贝儿”了。要是他还有点儿喜欢我，即使只那么一点点，一点点，这一切就还没结束。您看，上帝，要是您能让他给我打电话，我就不会向您要求这么多了。我会对他温柔，我会很开心，我会像往常的我一样，而他也会再次爱上我。那样我就不会向您祈求任何事。上帝，您明白吗？所以拜托了，您能让他给我打电话不？拜托您了，拜托，拜托了。 上帝，您是因为我已经和他发生关系而惩罚我吗？您为我那样的行为而生我的气吗？哦，可是，上帝，有那么多人都是如此啊？您不能针对我一个人这么苛刻。这也不是十分糟；但本不该如此的啊。我俩没有伤害任何人啊，上帝。只有伤害人的事儿是错的。我们没有损害哪怕是一个人；您知道的。您知道我们没干坏事，您知道吗? 所以拜托了，您能让他给我打电话不？ 要是他没打电话，我就明白了上帝您是在生我的气。我要一五一十地数到500，要是他还没给我打电话，那就是上帝不打算再帮我了。不来电话就是不帮我的预兆。五，十，十五，二十，二十五，三十，三十五，四十，四十五，五十，五十五 这可真糟心。我知道这很闹心。好吧，上帝，把我送往地狱吧。您以为我会害怕地狱，是吗？您会以为您掌控的地狱比我现在所身处的地狱更残酷。
我不可以。我不可以这样。假如他只是稍晚了一些给我打电话，这不值得这么歇斯底里。也许他压根就没想打电话给我？也许他不打电话直接奔过来呢。要是他看见我哭过，他会生气的。男人不喜欢女人哭哭啼啼的。他从不哭鼻子。上帝，希望我能让他哭一次鼻子。但愿我能让他哭，让他在地板上走来走去，感觉到心情沉重、痛楚不堪。但愿我能像地狱一样折磨他。 他不会希望那样折磨我的。我想他甚至不了解他给我的感觉。但愿不用我向他倾诉，他就能了解。男人不喜欢听女孩子说是他们把人家弄哭。男人也不喜欢听女孩子说不快是由于他们。要是你那样做了，他们会认为你占有欲太强、太苛刻。尔后，他们就会厌恶你。不管你说什么，即使是真情实感，他们也会感到厌恶。你永远只能耍一点小把戏。哦，我想我们之间没必要耍性子；我想这已经远远超出了我想要说的。我猜你也不曾和我耍性子。我猜我们之间也没有不能谈的事情。哦，要是他刚好打电话过来，我是不会对他说我为他而难过的。男人厌恶伤感的人。我还会温柔快乐，他会情不自禁喜欢上我。假如他能打个电话。假如他能打个电话。 或许他也在等电话。也许他不打电话给我直接奔过来呢。或许他现在正在来这儿的路上。也许发生了什么意外。不，什么意外也不会发生。我想象不出在他身上会出什么意外。我从未想象过他被车撞倒。我从没见过他静静地躺在那里僵直死去。但愿他已死了。这可真是个坏透腔的祝愿。这又是个美好的祝愿。要是他死了，他就是我的了。要是他死了，我就不会在过去几周里一直思前想后到现在了。我只会记得美好的时光。所有的回忆都将是美好的。但愿他已死了。但愿他已死了，死了，已经死了。 这真无聊。仅因为别人不在他所承诺的时刻给我打电话就咒人家死，真无聊。或许是时钟快了；我不知道时间准不准。或许他压根就没晚。任何事情都可能让他迟些打电话过来。或许他必须留在办公室。或许他回家了，会从那里打过来，而这时进来了一个人。他不愿在外人面前给我打电话。或许让我一直这么等着，他有那么一点担心，就那么一点点儿。他甚至希望我给他打过去。我可以给他打。我可以给他打过去。 我不可以。我不可，我不可。哦，上帝啊，请不要让我给他打电话。请别让我那么做。上帝，我和您同样明白，要是他担心我，无论他身处何处，不论周围有多少人，他都会给我打电话的。上帝，让我清醒吧。我不是要求您给我一个了断。我不能那样，尽管您有创造世界的能力。却唯独只让我看破这件事。别让我继续希翼了。别让我再自我安慰了。请别让我继续希望了，亲爱的上帝。千万别。 我不会给他打过去。我有生之年决不会再给他打电话了。在我给他打电话之前，他早就朽蚀在地狱里了。你不必赐予我力量，上帝；我本来有力量。要是他想我的话，他就能找到我。他知道到哪儿能找到我。他知道我在这里守候。他是如此地确信，如此地确信。男人一旦能拿准你，他们就会厌恶你，我不知道这是为什么。我该想到这点是如此地明确。 给他打个电话是如此地容易。于是我就会明白。或许给他打过去并非显得那么蠢。或许他不会介意。或许他喜欢我给他打过去。或许他想拿住我。有时人们总是在电话上拿你一下，他们总会说给你打电话没人接。我并不是说说让自己解脱；真有这样的事儿。上帝，您知道真有这样的事儿。哦，上帝，让我离电话远一点儿吧。让我远离它。让我保有那么一丁点儿的自尊。上帝，我想我要保有一点儿自尊。我想这就是我所要做的。 哦，当我忍受不了这种不能和他谈话的时刻，留点儿自尊又能怎么样呢？那样的自尊是如此地毫无意义，如此地猥琐。真正的自尊是底气十足的自尊，是根本不需要自尊的自尊。我并不是在说我只是想给他打电话。我没有。这是真的，我知道这是真的。我会底气十足。我会超越渺小卑微的自尊。 上帝，拜托了，让我远离电话吧。求求你了，上帝啊。 我看不出自尊与电话有什么关系。这是件琐事，可却会我给我带来自尊，会让我对此大惊小怪。也许我误会他了。或许他说的是让我五点时给他打电话。“五点钟给我打电话，宝贝。” 他可以是这么说的。很可能我没听清他是怎么说的。“五点钟给我打电话，宝贝。” 我只能大概确定他说的话。上帝，别让我这么自言自语了。上帝，让我清醒吧，让我清醒吧。 我必须想点儿别的事儿。我就静坐好了。要是我能坐得住的话。要是我能坐得住的话。或许我可以读书。哦，我要看尽所有纪实描写人们彼此甜蜜相爱的书。相爱的人们都会写些什么呢？他们不知道有些不是真的吗？他们不知道有些东西是谎言，一个上帝的大谎话吗？当他们明白爱情带来的伤害，他们又会写些什么？去他们的，去他们的，去他们的吧。
我不会去看这些描写爱情的书。我要静一下。没什么值得激动的。看。假如他是个我不认识的什么人该多好。假如他是个女的。我只是正好打电话说，“哈喽，没什么事儿，你忙什么呢？”我就该这么办，而且对此不必多想。仅仅因为爱他，我为什么不能随便自然些？我可以自然随便些。真的，我可以自然随便些。我要给他打电话，要很随便轻松。上帝，您知道我办不到。哦，别让我打电话给他。不，不，不要。 上帝，您并不是真心想让他给我打电话，对吗？上帝，您确信吗？您能不能发发慈悲？您就不能发发慈悲吗？上帝，我不是求您让他现在就给我打电话；我只是求您让他一会儿能给我打过来。我会一五一十地数到500。我要慢慢仔细地数。要是数完他还不给我打电话，我就打过去。我会打过去的。哦，拜托了，亲爱的上帝，亲爱仁慈的上帝，在天国佐佑我的主啊，让他先打过来吧。求求你了，上帝啊。求你了。 五，十，十五，二十，二十五，三十，三十五，四十，四十五，五十
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