I was fine, until I read your fucking book! It stirred shit up, you know? It reminded me how genuinely romantic I was, how I had so much hope in things, and now it’s like, I don’t believe in anything that relates to love. I don’t feel things for people anymore. In a way, I put all my romanticism into that one night, and I was never able to feel all this again. Like, somehow this night took things away from me and I expressed them to you, and you took them with you! It made me feel cold, like if love wasn’t for me!… You know what? Reality and love are almost contradictory for me. It’s funny. Every single of my ex’s, they’re now married! Men go out with me, we break up, and then they get married! And later they call me to thank me for teaching them what love is, and, and that I taught them to care and respect women!… You know, I want to kill them! Why didn’t they ask me to marry them? I would have said “No,” but at least they could have asked!! But it’s my fault, I know it’s my fault, because I never felt it was the right man. Never! But what does it mean the right man? The love of your life? The concept is absurd. The idea that we can only be complete with another person is evil! Right?!…You know, I guess I’ve been heart-broken too many times. And then I recovered. So now, you know, from the starts I make no effort because I know it’s not going to work out, I know it’s not going to work out.
