quinta-feira, 20 de dezembro de 2012

George and Martha, sad, sad, sad...

"There is only one man in my life who has ever... made me happy. Do you know that? One!

I meant George, of course. Uh... George; my husband.

...George who is out somewhere in the dark... George who is good to me, and whom I revile; who understands me, and whom I push off; who can make me laugh, and I choke it back in my throat; who can hold me, at night, so that it's warm, and whom I will bite so there's blood; who keeps learning the games we play as quickly as I can change the rules; who can make me happy and I do not wish to be happy, and yes I do wish to be happy. George and Martha: sad, sad, sad.

...whom I will not forgive for having come to rest; for having seen me and having said: yes, this will do; who has made the hideous, the hurting, the insulting mistake of loving me and must be punished for it. George and Martha: sad, sad, sad.

...who tolerates, which is intolerable; who is kind, which is cruel; who understands, which is beyond comprehension...

Some day... hah! some night... some stupid, liquor-ridden night... I will go too far... and I'll either break the man's back... or push him off for good... which is what I deserve."

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