Chapter 4

 

It was hard to think Amadeus a normal ordinary man. He was a unique exception in my life and because there would be only one Amadeus.  I would love like this just once. Thus, I became absorbed, , needy, and the more I came to lean on him emotionally, the more he became indispensable, something I had never done in the past was to think of in these terms. He was superior to my immediate wants and as he had come to be, a component factor of my being that it was difficult to think of anything else and I would not allow letting myself be distracted by minor things. Extravagant with clinging it would be false to say that I was happy and at peace, I argued all the time. In love, the nervous distance would test out intolerable!   I missed him too much, I wanted for us to be together, away from him obsessive and nagging ideas as to where he might be at any given time  and with whom would drive me crazy. This is not really happening I would say to myself as humors and moods would descend from hilarities of well being to cadenzas of somber tension of waiting and wanting and I could write Amadeus letters of most violent accusations and reproaches, threatening that he not speak to other women and to cancel them out of all out his life:

“Don’t go with anyone one else, please wait for me. I have you in me now. I couldn’t go with anyone else.”

He could neither tolerate strange demands nor stand my unnatural fears and would labor

his damnest to quieter my hang-ups with small doses of fine grain of sand.

“Your fear is irrational “he chided, “Really it would be hard to cheat on you. I could only do it with you. It is true you know other women do not interest me any more. The fact that I’m always home and I do not go out at night proves it, before I met you could never find me at home, now I wouldn’t know where to go I don’t find anything interesting out there”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Well you obviously find talking about women very interesting.”

“What do you mean?” he plighted unblemished

“Let me put it to you this way, in your letters you write me or when   I call you keep carrying on about a usual piss of a girlfriend or some colleague at work , you insult me,

I don’t want to hear no more of your other halves…”

“Nathalie no wait, listen, my discourses on women, I wouldn’t want you to misunderstand it. I mean to say simply that for many reasons, I have had many around me, but when our rapport became concrete, I have detached myself from them. At the

beginning I was convinced that it was a question of honesty in your behalf, almost duty,

eventually instead I became aware that it isn’t so, it’s that they are not you, and I now

feel a sort of repulsion that I have never known, what is still stranger is that in the past I have always been very sensitive to the feminine spell. I have always thought that while virtually in love, I could like other women as well, well, you know, I’ve discovered that that just isn’t so. Having surpassed this first woe, I have found being in love a wonderful thing.”

“Fuck you”

“No you must believe me Nathalie, my love you must, I’m sorry if I have caused you to worry but I’ll try to explain one could unintentionally cause someone pain without knowing it m without wanting to unconsciously cause someone to hurt. To you in no way I would want to do that, consciously nor unconsciously I

 wouldn’t I want to be the cause of you grief. I love you, enough said , and if you think that’s gibberish , I’ll have you know that the great philosopher Socrates himself often cautioned that his first drama of the day was to wake up in the morning because

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

attempting as usual to land on the ground and fix his feet on sense of matter he would inevitably kill an ant and he loved ants as well..”

These were the times when I could get extraordinary drained and as Amadeus kept pressing the cup closer to my anxious lips, I often thought my anxieties and suspicious were unfounded. Amadeus I believe did love me and hasty and snappy erroneous judgments were causing   Amadeus to be trapped in anguish as well and when it backfired because it did, I’d feel it return to me double fold. I knew that my fixations my irritations would only continue to pile dangerous quarrels but I could not pretend that I was not afraid to loose him, that he was not important to me, and that I couldn’t tolerate the idea of being bumped and dropped.

“I have already told you “he’d ditto “I don’t find anyone interesting, those other women, it’s true I talk about them incessantly Forgive me. My sole defense is that effectively, I spoke of them, as they had nothing to share with me. Listen, I am going to tell you a story that is going to totally convince you that you have nothing to worry about. Just last night, you know, I was coming back from a mini-congress I had been attending in Alessandria., would you know it, in the proximity of Turin, I got a flat tire, in horror

 someone halted t o come to my aid but their equipment did not suit my car. A young woman turned up and offers to help to no avail, same dilemma she did not have the right key. At this point, very kindly she got out of her car, took off on the highway, and after reaching the first town, triumphal came back with the tool. There was no way to return the money she had spent; she told me she would be happy to go out for coffee. Once in the city I offered her a coffee and she following my little lack of interest and response told me right out that she found me extremely attractive and that if I wished she could

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

give me her telephone number and offer me her company. At that point it came naturally for me to smile and tell her ‘ I’m sorry don’t be hurt, but I’m incredibly in love with a girl that I have never kissed and who lives thousands of miles away. It’s one of those wonderful things that happen in a lifetime.’  I must have totally sweetened her up that she did not even take offense. Afterwards we parted on our own ways. This episode reflects with fidelity what I think and how important and profound is that which I feel for you. I love you too much. I love you inside, in every motion and though….”

I loved Amadeus too much and though he was just joking and then let all the imbroglio rip, and thought neither did I come equipped with the proper tires he required I wanted to love him in a manner he could not compare not really knowing the risk and the complete ass I was set out to become.

Breathless when I received his letters I was unable to fight the drowsy stimulations and deep think knockouts:

“I know that you would be able to understand me, to love me to live beside me as a normal man. My drama has been that they have always seem me under a different light, someone who has something more , more then the normal man. Absurd! The more I tried to convince them that it was not true, the more they convince themselves of the contrary. Even their hate was superior. Maybe I have not been able to give them what they wanted. However, you are beautiful. I know that you would never hate me…”

Living in function of my drama queen gradually began to dissimulate other relationships.

I was not going out any more, socialize with my friends, have a good time and not worry that Amadeus might call and I would miss him and whenever he missed a call, I simply went out of my mind

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He made me smile. He made me laugh, unlike myself to complement my personality he was very eloquent, he could make me forget my worries, fill my heart with joy, and I should like to write indeed a hymn of praise for his in fatigable tolerance , his incredulous and brilliant understanding and accomplishment for his gentle and tender love.

He teased constantly citing verses, poems anything to build creates love:

‘’But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?

It is the East (It’s Nathalie I say)

Arise fair sun and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief

That thou here maid are far more fair than she.’

And it is as such as Romeo loved Juliet, so I love you, with the same dedication poetry.”

 

Often I needed to rant., wanting to familiarize us to a disparaging rapport, it’s funny but I had really wanted to start a sort of dialogue anew, a quantities mass of words to establish this new innocence in a new amorous relationship, find a common ground based on honesty a new level of communication without secrets.

At times, I needed insane assurance and protection and submitted myself to lengthy psychic analysis and interpretation.

I still carry his thoughts with me of that night when I decided I should come clean

moreover, relate most relevant and vitals facts of a still, mobile and complex reality and that I had been married previously and was not yet free.

“You, love, must have very little esteem of me if you held that knowing about your failed

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

marriage could produce change me or could have changed you in my eyes. Do you think

I am so limited that I cannot pose myself some questions and answer them for myself.?

That I do not know or can’t guess the game of life? That there is so little depth in me, as not be able to understand?  My love I look at the world with much subtlety .and tolerance

I know how men are weak and incapacitated?  Then the error of one time should cancel you forever from life? None of us would exist then. I am here in love with you,

I’m here to love you, and understand you, others may not, but I do!”

Who could not agonize grieve to such extraordinary elusive parallelism, sleaziness of symbolism, by Jove, not I, and amid desperation and smite that killed me, the isolation

I found myself dwelling, whilst mixture of humiliation I found myself hear myself breathe:

 “I felt you should know about my past, though you were right when you wrote that ours is a beautiful love story”

“Yes love, it’s splendid, a quoin of heaven in a foul and miserable world!

Nathalie, I want to assure you, for me nothing is changed, your misfortunate conjugal adventure, I would like you to annul it, this way you will not suffer anymore. For me you it matters little, you are still the same person I met on that first day but I am glad you have made me part of this truth, I have felt you closer. Mine! And I need it because I have loved only you.   I am saddened for you Nathalie, these things can happen and they have happened to you and I am furious with myself because I cannot hug and console you. I am furious at this moment because someone has hurt you and I want to hit him,

destroy him. It is not honorable I know but I feel it and think it and it is impossible to hide it. I was not there and could not protect you but no one will ever do it again. I couldn’t permit it nor even tolerate it, I couldn’t excuse it!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I would be intoxicated by the ability he would exorcise, present me abstract images without weight but that in a dialectical context framed up a concrete reality of the image of a day to day experience. Nonetheless while the ornate could very well be criminal I was ready every day to plot a new felonious delinquency and battle with a static destiny but that I would also immediately erase and override the next day. I believed finally Amadeus that through the exaggeration and   most abstract manifestation that he was instead institutionalizing forever a presentation of a relationship embedded in my skin a relationship with a given data that in the scheme of things is more restricted and sealed up. At the same time, the aesthetic fabrication as form of interpretation of my reality and elevation of the   Italian situation as new experiment and most complete thought always kept me on drowning and needing more, just like if he were a drug. .

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 5

 

It happened at the party on Saturday night. I had not been able to wiggle out of Pierre’s clutches. Unchastely and unimaginative Pierre’s pulsated hurries of conversations as he watched in gleaming pleasure me all guilty and in flight letting me blush, wonder away and convolute and coil in corners of our apartment. There was no doubt of course as to the cause, he had done his best to irritate me and cause me discomfort. I had been fretting around crashed to realize I was not unaroused nor unconcerned by brazen memories we had made together, reduced to admit that no matter what he could really get my goat. It has been so difficult to be aware of anything else other then his inquisitive eyes, secret furtive pull and outré slam.

One can become a slave to the choice one makes. My topsy-turvy relationship with Pierre, a relationship without authority and free from emotional restrain had instead placed me at clematis. Pierre the man of torments and ruptures, the man that would invade my spirits with his lustful smile, whirl me out of my senses symbolized the most profound inspiration of my life, delicious contretemps of drippy passions, jams of explosive releases and joys compassed my COM pulsed mind and every chart of time. Making love to perdition and Pierre almost sapping the life of me kept me serving.

Pierre had has so enthralled in his keeping, that there was no eagerness to run anyway,

At intervals and rotten breaks, the persistence of remembrances of our entwined body’s akin and breathless embraces would keep me sighing and wondering when the earth would move again   .   Delicious astronomical days of contentment immediately followed

Pierre’s endless agnostic philosophies, how he never understood what life was about

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How he could never understand how people could get so involved in its non-meaning, how absurd life was , how he never quite understood whether there was a God or not and how lucky we were because we had chosen to release ourselves with freedom and spontaneity. Thus with a cheerful smile in hi face Pierre would leave me to wonder whether I would ever see him again.. It has been so difficult to be aware of other but his inquisitive eyes, secret furtive pull and outré slam.

 Had   I not met Amadeus and not lured me away I would have still been enjoying the delights with Pierre and in midst intervals trying to extricate myself from memories of his grasps.   True Amadeus  was so far away and the distance trying, true my hormones had been screaming but it was different, an altogether different feeling.   Amadeus  did not make me stranger and had wanted me to participate in his life, allowed me his interior world,   Amadeus liked me , liked us, wanted the two of us to get to know each other better, wanted for me to learn more about myself and my needs, he wanted the two of us to be.   Since I had met Amadeus I had not been given Pierre much more thoughts, having acquired more energy and strength and concentrating in a much solid and gratifying relationship I thought I had better ideas in my head now then fucking Pierre and thought I ‘d never have to return to think or mention my permissive encounter with Pierre.   A brief encounter, an immediate identification, penetrated insight of each other surface and we had urgently become lovers. A painter and lost in his ways Pierre inspired so much tenderness,   There had been a striking resemblance of the night I had just spent with Pierre and the first time we had made love I was reflecting, as I sat against the bed post with the whole picture all indescribable complexities. Susceptive and consciously persisting aware of the biological signals he transmits; I had finally been unable to break away from his eager lips and enthrallment of my tits. At the immediate

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

feel and touch of the flowing wetness on my crouches, Pierre had not wasted no time nor allowed any resistance tossing me against the wall elevating me to almost unconsciousness grasping my hand, mastering to touch his grown erection, resolved crushed inside my cunt.. The whole thing had happened so fast, I had had no time to stop it , Pierre had been so smooth, and well equipped that while agape and dumbfounded I had neither screamed moved or urged him, filled with the fresh scent of his silky coconut hair intoxicated by something higher and beautiful, fearful wasted and broken was   clutching against his body whimpering like a baby .

How can there be ordering of events, when unpredictions like this occur? What was I going to do now, what was I to tell Amadeus? How could I explain what had happened

There had been no doubt in mind as to what might have happened My unwillingness to attend the party I had explained to my friends Gwen ad Fay was to avoid seeing Pierre too early, in addition, get caught in an unpleasant and intriguing situation where I would still have to answer to him. They had found my argumentation absurd, it would have been sufficient to say a few polite things in his presence as to not appear rude and then avert my attention elsewhere, Pierre would grow accustomed to my lack of interest and would eventually leave things be. Feeling dubious I had agreed upon the plans aware that inspire of an enflamed want of redemption it was hard to dispose of the past, entertain old relationships without flatteries of the past.   Uninstructed neophyte indeed that I could have believed that years of delight fucking had me uncommitted, The truth was that I was impuissant and shallow without any morals and dignity and that I did wrong all the time and knew it. After a whole night lying awake beside Pierre I got out of bed struggling to gain some measure of composure and went to sit by the window trying to

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

undo the tangles of my thoughts. The snow outside was flying; it crushed itself on the window seal brightening the outer walls. The earth was wet and grey, underneath ashes of snow strings of green grass of the lawn animated and cheered in the pallor of the new day. There was nowhere for the conscience to escape though much had changed in the matter of a few hours though on   a cold winter day it does not make much difference it is a small thing in the vast universe and outside my room, the ambience had not altered.