Night One
I always used to hear people say that women could even teach the devil a lesson. And it seems that now, you and I are going to prove that saying true.
You might be surprised when you see these pages someday. Let me tell you why these letters are addressed to you: because I lied to you, though I want you to know the truth in the end.
By the time you read my confessions, I will be dead. And that's a good thing, because if you want to take revenge on me, you won't find me.
Before anything else, I must say that I didn't believe a single word you said, and I don't think I'll see you again tonight. What could you expect? I was just sitting on a stone platform, staring at flowers whose names I didn't know. It was midnight, and when I heard you approaching, I got scared. And when you asked if I was suffering because of you, I denied it. You can count that among my lies too, though I'm certain you already know that, contrary to what I said, you had frightened me.
But that fear didn't last. It quickly gave way to playfulness, especially when you introduced yourself as Mephistopheles. I told you I didn't believe you were the devil, but you only laughed. I don't know how you figured out that I don't have much time left to live, or how you knew I was waiting for death. Still, when you said you had an entertaining proposal for me, I realized that you, like me, are a liar. I don't know what you're hiding from me, but whatever it is, it doesn't matter. Because I've hidden much bigger things from you.
Where did you hear that I'm skilled in matters of love? I could see how your face twisted when I said there was no hope of falling in love. You expected me to struggle with a different kind of despair—to beg for my life, for instance. But I only said there was no hope of falling in love, and yet, more than anything, I wanted to fall in love. You didn't believe me either, and I had to explain my wish to you several times.
In the end, you brought up that ridiculous proposal. You said that if I found love before my death, you would bring me back to life, and in return, you would take that love away from me. And you were astonished at how quickly I accepted. Maybe you thought you'd proposed something difficult to me, but that wasn't the case. If you truly have such power, and I choose to believe your strange words, it still won't hurt me. Either way, I'll be the winner of this game: if I win, I reach the death I want, and if I lose, I find what I've been wishing for. So, as a devil, you're far too naive, my friend! Believe me, I could be a better devil than you.
But let's move past these matters. Even now, as I write this confession, I feel foolish, though I intend to become even more foolish. You said that if I taught you about love, I'd make your job easier. Of course, maybe you didn't say that exactly, but I understood that's what you meant. You wanted to know what love looks like in my eyes, so you could interfere with the pact we made. It's all right. I'm not upset—in fact, I'd be glad if you tried, even if that attempt were a kind of cheating.
But I told you: "I can't teach you love in one night."
And here lies a not-so-small secret. This is where I told you my biggest lie. Don't try to guess in vain—yes, I know how ridiculous I must have seemed when I said teaching love requires fifteen sessions. It was quite obvious that I didn't know what I was talking about, just as I don't know now what I want to say in these fifteen sessions. But my deception lay elsewhere.
I want to try to fall in love with you over these fifteen nights.
This is the biggest secret I'm meant to carry until the last moment of my life. I know it's impossible, and I know that doing this with you is wrong, because you are a strange human being. Even if you don't want to accept your humanity, it makes no difference—the fact that you deny it makes you even more dangerous than you actually are.
But what does a human like me, with one foot in the grave, have to fear? So I will try to fall in love with you—you who call yourself a devil and casually, at midnight, feel like sitting beside a stranger and inviting him to listen to your words. Now that I've said this, I need to make one more small confession: yes, with all your strangeness, you drew me to yourself. And I think that if you really do come again tonight, our story will become more exciting.
Still, I don't believe you'll come, though I wish I were wrong.
