The Notebook 精彩片段：
Noah
I put the pages aside and remember sitting with Allie on our porch when she read this letter for the first time. It was late afternoon, with red streaks cutting the summer sky, and the last remnants of the day were fading. The sky was slowly changing color, and as I was watching the sun go down, I remember thinking about that brief, flickering moment when day suddenly turns into night.
Dusk, I realized then, is just an illusion, because the sun is either above the horizon or below it. And that means that day and night are linked in a way that few things are; there cannot be one without the other, yet they cannot exist at the same time.
How would it feel, I remember wondering, to be always together, yet forever apart?
Looking back, I find it ironic that she chose to read the letter at the exact moment that question popped into my head. It is ironic, of course, because I know the answer now. I know what its like to be day and night now; always together, forever apart.
There is beauty where we sit this afternoon, Allie and I. This is the pinnacle of my life. They are here at the creek: the birds, the geese, my friends. Their bodies float on the cool water, which reflects bits and pieces of their colors and make them seem larger than they really are. Allie too is taken in by their wonder, and little by little we get to know each other again.
"Its good to talk to you. I find that I miss it, even when it hasnt been that long."
I am sincere and she knows this, but she is still wary. I am a stranger.
"Is this something we do often?" she asks. "Do we sit here and watch the birds a lot? I mean, do we know each other well?"
"Yes and no. I think everyone has secrets, but we have been acquainted for years."
She looks to her hands, then mine. She thinks about this for a moment, her face at such an angle that she looks young again. We do not wear our rings. Again, there is a reason for this. She asks: "Were you ever married?"
I nod "Yes."
"What was she like?"
I tell the truth.
"She was my dream. She made me who I am, and holding her in my arms was more natural to me than my own heartbeat. I think about her all the time. Even now, when Im sitting here, I think about her. There could never have been another.