![]() She was always a good deal of trouble, and I suspect she will reappear when I least want to see her, skirts too long, shy to the point of aggravation, always the injured party, full of recriminations and little hurts and stories I do not want to hear again, at once saddening me and angering me with her vulnerability and ignorance, an apparition all the more insistent for being so long banished. (You see I still have the scenes, but I no longer perceive myself among those present, no longer could ever improvise the dialogue.) The other one, a twenty-three-year-old, bothers me more. ![]() I have already lost touch with a couple of people I used to be one of them, a seventeen-year-old, presents little threat, although it would be of some interest to me to know again what it feels like to sit on a river levee drinking vodka-and-orange-juice and listening to Les Paul and Mary Ford and their echoes sing "How High the Moon" on the car radio. ![]() We forget the loves and the betrayals alike, forget what we whispered and what we screamed, forget who we were. We forget all too soon the things we thought we could never forget. of a bad night and demand to know who deserted them, who betrayed them, who is going to make amends. ![]() Otherwise they turn up unannounced and surprise us, come hammering on the mind's door at 4 a.m. Perhaps it is difficult to see the value in having one's self back in that kind of mood, but I do see it I think we are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not. ![]()
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