The Poet's Princess

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How well I understand Conti! Like him I fell for Sarasin’s charm. The immense relief I should have felt after the viva of my doctorate thesis came to nothing when our coexistence was over and done with. Actually, which one of us walked out on the other? Who snuffed out the candle when there was nothing more to see?

How I hated him!

Him, the impostor!

Him, the vile usurper of my integrity!

How eagerly I waited for the moment of our long goodbye! How sure was I to have got rid of him for ever! How glad I was to swap him for life’s little pleasures and an easy consumption of culture fermented in others’ minds.

What a lark! After a tentative break that should have been final, we are cheek by jaw again. This time I am under no illusion of ever freeing myself from him. We are together “Now and forever”, like in the swanky phrasing of a romances and other soap-opera placebos. Though there is one tacky detail that should trouble me: my placebo has the lethal sharpness of a drug. Our “now and forever” is a love-hate casualty based on a stormy exchange of blows and kisses. And yet: I would sell my soul to make him stay.

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