La Aime Douleur
...мир останется лживым, мир останется вечным, может быть, постижимым, но все-таки бесконечным...
"I like you," he says, "because you're terrified."

..."I'm not kidding," he continues, "I like the fact that you're terrified."

"What gives you that impression?"

Jack holds my arms tighter to my sides and bends us over
the counter until our faces are inches away from the mirror.

"When I wake up every morning, I rub your arms and
your chest and your stomach," Jack says, looking directly into
the reflection of my eyes. "You are so relaxed, and soft, and
you always smell like soap. I rub your cheek and you turn your
head into my fingers. And then when you wake up, there's a
moment of sheer terror in your body. Every bit of softness
leaves your muscles, and you greet the day like it was the

"So far I don't sound the slightest bit endearing," I say,
knowing in my heart that every word he's saying is true.

"You grow more electric all day. You're so stiff by the time
you come home I can barely hug you."

"And then I break out the booze," I add.

"Yep. And Aqua. But instead of relazing, you continue this
self-inflicted pursuit of terror, until you finally manage to
douse it with vodka and pass out. And then you're soft again."

"So far you've illustrated why we both need therapy more
than why we're in love."

"I love you because you push yourself over the same cliff
day after day after day and I can't believe nobody sees it but
me. I love you because I've never seen anything more
fascinating, and I need it to be mine. You're a shiny object."
Jack pauses. "Why do you love me?"

"Have I said I do?" I ask.

"You did a second ago."

"Shit." I pause. I don't know why. I should know why. But
I have no idea.

"Because you touch me when I'm sleeping," I say finally.
"Because you know me soft."