我的抽屉中有一张蒙尘的纸条,它见证了我们父女间深深的隔阂……小时候的我,看到父亲,犹如看到秋夜的路灯——惨淡而寒冷。他从来没有疼爱过我,总是把我当成“眼中钉”、“肉中刺”。正因为如此,我小时候的种种渴盼便被无情地抹杀,没有一丝眷恋。 There is a dusty note in my drawer. It bears witness to the deep division between our father and daughter... When I was a child, I saw my father as if I saw the street lights of the autumn night—dear and cold. He never loved me and always used me as a “spike in the eye,” or “a thorn in the flesh.” Because of this, my thirst for childhood was ruthlessly erased, and there was no trace of attachment.