I gambled and I lost. I knew there were uncertainties. It was too beautiful to be true. Reading in my diary, going back for more than ten years, I was surprised how little I have changed. As an example: "I may better go to bed then continuing this narcistic attempt at catching a reflection of my self in a mirror of irony." The irony may be less evident, but I am still narcistic, as the story testifies. I know I am vain. My vanity has played its part in the whole affair. It may be one of the main reasons, our relation didn't work. It is me, but still I am sorry we failed.
As another example: "I see my intellectual life as my only defense against the destructive powers of demanding women." Well put! I have to take up my work again. There is no other way!
Another example: "On the surface, what I lack is enthousiasm and courage. However, on deeper analysis, what I lack is basically trust." I know I need to learn to trust, more than anything else.
Yet another example: "The ideal of one single total relation seems not to be feasible, for me." Well, it didn't work. But I wanted it badly, whereas I didn't at the time of writing that.
I also saw a poem I copied one of the other times I was in pain when a love story ended:
Yet each man kills the thing he loves ... Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word. The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword.It is from Oscar Wilde. I may have kissed her to much, to avoid the confrontation with the problems involved in living a life together.
What I learned from reading my diary, not that I didn't know, is that I have chased after women in a fanatic and confused way. I meant it seriously this time though, but obviously that doesn't change anything. The way it ended was characteristic, fatally so. Anyway, if I was out for only another story as I have been before, I could have been satisfied. But I am not. This has been my last story. I want life!
(C) Æliens 2005
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