I really want to tell the story of a man I met recently. He himself told me this story, his story, which managed to move me a lot. I could as well keep these things for myself...seems like I only want to spread compassion and sadness around.
He was really sad when we started talking, and shy, at first, he hardly answered my questions. But, after a while, he became more open, and he started pouring out all this stuff, he confessed what he thought he had done wrong to me, what he wished he could do better. I wish I could repeat what he said word for word.
He told me how he'd fallen in love with this girl, a lot younger, so much so that he could not eat or sleep or think anymore. He kept doing things he wasn't supposed to do and forgetting what he was supposed to do. He told me he felt like he was cursed or something.
He talked a lot about her too, how she'd understood his feelings for her and somehow responded.
But then he got kind of confused and defensive and said that I shouldn't think that he was a perv or a nutter.
But I'm not describing well...if I could present this person as he was when he was talking to me, if I could translate his exact words one for one...
anyway, I should maybe add that the girl's brother got to know about him. He's been watching out for him since he understood the whole story (or he thought he did).
He'll probably never see her again.
I'm not exaggerating the story at all...actually, I've only repeated like half of it, without any details, because they wouldn't make much sense anyway, written by me. What do I know about this kind of things, this kind of love.
What do I know about love?
I am calm now. Read, this is my story too. This will happen to me too, and I don't have even half of the strength, not even half of the courage that man had.