What could invoke more ache than the sublime beauty of a love doomed to fail? now, i gather its ashes. my hands are grey, my fingers scorched.
There’s an ocean between the you I met in the courtroom, and the you inside my head. For practical purposes I have to deal with the you in the court room (which I do reasonably well, we agree, don’t we?). For everything else, I am concerned only with the one inside my head. This you is a product of my imagination, I understand, but is a still refuge. The you that my mind conjures up suddenly out of a novel, or a poem. The you who teleport through Plath’s rage and Allende’s lines (not that I like her one bit, but for a few lines that bring you to me). So I imagine, your him to my her, this you :
Trying times, and numerous affairs washed his mouth with soap many times, enough to stop him calling out for me. But not enough to make him stop loving me with that terrible, possessive, absolute love that solitary children give. And she, she returned his love with an affection free of jealousy or anxiety. He could not imagine life without her, without her incessant chatter, her curiosity, her childish caresses, and the blind admiration for him, which her eyes spoke of. With her, he felt strong, protective, and wise, because that was how she saw him. Everything made him jealous. He suffered if she paid attention, even if for an instant, to anybody else, if she made a move without consulting him, if she kept a secret from him. He needed to share with her his most intimate thoughts, fears, and desires, to dominate her and at the same time serve her with total abnegation. The few years that separated them in age were not noticeable. She seemed older than she was, and he younger; she intended to swallow the world and he lived crushed by reality. He lamented in advance the mishaps that could separate them, but she was still too young at heart to imagine a future.
Both understood instinctively that their complicity was forbidden; it was made of crystal, transparent and fragile, and had to be defended with eternal pretence from the rest of the world.
My you live inside my head. And the you in the courtroom, i do not recognize.
