Little Grey Mice
“No superlative, no hyperbole, came remotely close: she was inflated, blown up, with an incredible happiness. But happiness didn’t fit, not properly: it was insufficient for the morning-till-night sensation that was permanently with her. It left out contentment, for instance, and she was absolutely content. Pride, too, because she was fiercely proud of him, and there was a division here: fiercely proud of everything about him but proud also of herself for being with him, a reflected gratificatio...n. Hope entered into it: hope that as well as everything was going her relationship with Otto would progress to the ultimate, although she didn’t like thinking that far ahead. She still did, of course. Which created another impression, perhaps more important than any of the others. That of security. She vaguely remembered it being an early half-thought, one of no longer being alone: maybe not even that positive, not in the early days. But certainly now.
Loneliness had always been with her, a wearing-down affliction for which there had seemed no remedy, no cure: and like someone with an incurable affliction she had become reluctantly reconciled to suffering from it, always to living alone, always to being alone, to growing old alone and inevitably to dying alone.MoreLess
Loneliness had always been with her, a wearing-down affliction for which there had seemed no remedy, no cure: and like someone with an incurable affliction she had become reluctantly reconciled to suffering from it, always to living alone, always to being alone, to growing old alone and inevitably to dying alone.MoreLess
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