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When we think of our old lovers, and the people they are with now, we wonder what we did not have. We wonder collectively, as people, what other people have. A collective unconscious is formed, a cloud, and we laze around it and lie to each other. We tell each other we are better than one another, better than whoever he is with now. We tell it to each other, because we are well-meaning people. We tell it to each other in friendship.
It’s so much easier to present an illusion of oneself than to contain multitudes.
it is very easy to tell me you love me when it is over and you are thousands of miles away in a foreign country I said: could you love me at your front door? I said: i don’t think you could.
All I want from you is to be liked. Of course, that is a scared woman’s way of saying what I really want, which is to connect with you on a deep and true level while I am still on this earth, and maybe even after I am off it.
