“Not that I, like everyone else, had not often wanted to do it. No, it happened differently, and not as I expected. It was just after I had had a lunch and a tea with two different men. My lunch partner I had lived with for (more or less) four and seven-twelfths years. When he left me for new pastures, I spent two years, or was it three, half-dead, and my heart was a stone, impossible to carry about, considering all the other things weighing on one. Then I slowly, and with difficulty, got free, ...because my heart cherished a thousand adhesions to my first love—though from another point of view he could be legitimately described as either my second real love (my father being the first) or my third (my brother intervening). As the folk song has it: I have loved but three men in my life,My father, my brother, and the man thattook my life. But if one were going to look at the thing from outside, without insight, he could be seen as (perhaps, I forget) the thirteenth, but to do that means disregarding the inner emotional truth.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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