"一刀两断" (yī dāo liǎng duàn) is a Chinese idiom. Here's a breakdown of its meaning and usage:
"Literal Meaning:"
Literally, it means to cut something with one stroke of a sword (or knife), resulting in two pieces.
"Figurative Meaning:"
It means to "cut off all connections" or "sever ties" abruptly and completely with someone or something.
It implies a final and decisive break, often used in the context of ending relationships (romantic, friendships), disassociating from harmful habits, or cutting off ties with problematic people or situations.
"Key Characteristics:"
"Finality:" It emphasizes a definitive end, leaving no room for ambiguity or future reconciliation (in the context of the break).
"Decisiveness:" It suggests a strong, unhesitating action.
"Roughness:" While sometimes used metaphorically for emotional breaks, the literal image is sharp and decisive, implying a potentially difficult or painful separation.
"Common Usage Scenarios:"
1. "Ending Relationships:" "After he cheated, she decided to "一刀两断" their relationship." (She decided to completely sever ties with him.)
2. "Disassociating from People:" "I've known him for years, but his constant negativity made me decide to "一刀两断"." (I decided to cut him out of my
一刀两断
书桌上的台灯亮到后半夜，我盯着草稿纸上反复涂改的“休学申请”四个字，笔尖在“家长签名”处悬了很久。桌角的小提琴盒敞着，松香在弓毛上结了层白霜，像结了层化不开的冰。
第一次意识到必须做个了断，是在市级比赛的后台。我握着琴颈的手止不住地抖，指挥老师拍我肩膀时，我闻到他袖口沾着的松香味——和父亲琴盒里的一模一样。那年我十岁，刚在父亲的强迫下考到十级，却在独奏时把《流浪者之歌》拉成了支跑调的童谣。
“你根本没有天赋，只是在浪费时间。”评委的话像把钝刀，在我心里割了三年。这三年里，我背着琴去上各种补习班，指腹磨出的茧子比乐谱上的音符还密，可每次抬手试奏，耳边总会响起那句“浪费时间”。
直到上周在画室看到那幅未完成的油画。颜料在画布上洇出一片混沌的蓝，像极了我此刻的心情。美术老师说：“有时候停笔不是放弃，是知道该换支画笔了。”我忽然想起父亲逼我练琴时，眼里的光其实和我看画册时一样亮，只是他把自己的执念，错当成了我的方向。
凌晨三点，我把小提琴轻轻放进盒里，咔嗒一声扣上锁。这声音很轻，却像斩断了缠绕多年的线。我在申请单上写下自己的名字，笔尖划过纸面时，竟有种前所未有的轻快。
第二天递给父亲时，他盯着那张纸看了很久，指节捏得发白。我没敢抬头，却听见他说：“楼下画室招学徒，我帮你问过了。”窗外的阳光刚好落在他鬓角的白发上，那一刻我忽然明白，真正的果断不是决裂，是终于敢承认：有些坚持，其实是对自己的辜负。
现在我的画板上，终于有了属于自己的色彩。那些曾经在琴弦上纠结的时光，都化作了颜料里的光泽。原来一刀两断不是结束，是让对的事情，终于有机会开始。
