In 1863, two years into the American Civil War, a young woman came to Halifax, Canada, alone in search of her lover. She made up various surnames and lies, carefully sought out and spied on. It's a pity that the man who appeared in front of her no longer loves her.
So she began to do whatever she could to get close to the man's life, spying on his dates with other women, paying him money to pay off gambling debts, paying prostitutes to spend the night with him, stuffing notes in his laundry coat, pretending to be Being pregnant broke his marriage contract with the judge's daughter, and even thought about hiring someone to force him to get married by using hypnotism... Ignoring his father's persuasion, his mother's illness, and the love of those around him, he only focused on what he loved, and eventually became mentally ill and lonely. forever.
Zweig wrote a similar story in "Letters from a Strange Woman," about a young woman who gambles her life for someone who doesn't love her. She wrote in her letter, "Everyone pampers me, pampers me, everyone treats me well - only you, only you, forget me completely, only you, only you never recognize me!
" Confused by this moth-to-fire love, I didn't realize it until I read Adele's story. From love at first sight to physical pleasure, she loves him; when things develop into obsession and madness, she thinks she loves him, but in fact she loves herself, the one who flies into the flames for love. Adele lives in the shadow of her beloved sister who died young, and under the burden of her father's fame, unable to find the meaning of her existence. Only in specious love can she find herself. She is proud that she disregards the eyes of the world and does not follow the path arranged by her family. For that little vanity and self-satisfaction, she can only do her last bit of strength to bite the bullet and go on. Even if people shed tears, they would say indifferently, "This is the path I chose." Before she left Guernsey for the New World, she wrote in her diary: It's incredible, a young girl, drifting across the ocean Crossing the sea, from her hometown to a whole new world, just to be with the person she loves. I can do this.
Sometimes I think, maybe I have had such crazy thoughts. This idea is like a pimple in adolescence buried deep in it, occasionally it hurts, squeezing out the pus on the surface, but it can't break the seed at the bottom.
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