That was the beginning of what turned out to be a sexual alliance that lasted for close to two years. I use that phrase in a precise, clinical description, but that doesn’t mean our relations were only physical, that we had no interest in each other beyond the pleasures we found in bed. Still, what went on between us was devoid of romantic trappings or sentimental illusions, and the nature of our understanding did not change significantly after that first night. She wasn’t hungry for the sorts of attachments that most people seem to want, and love in the traditional sense was something alien to her, a passion that lay outside the sphere of what she was capable of. Given my own inner state at that time, I was perfectly willing to accept the conditions she imposed on me. We made no claims on each other, saw each other only intermittently, pursued strictly independent lives. And, yet, there was a solid affection between us, an intimacy I had never quite managed to achieve with anyone else. It took me a while to catch on, however. I found her a little scary, perhaps even perverse (which lent a certain excitement to our initial contacts), but as time went on I understood that she was merely an excentric, an unorthodox person who lived her life according to an elaborate set of bizarre, private rituals. Every experience was systematized for her and each one of her projects fell into a different category, separate from all others.
Niciodata un autor nu a exprimat gandiri si sentimente de-alea mele atat de bine. Citesc aceasta carte (Leviathan – Paul Auster) si mi se pare ca cel putin acest fragment este scris din propria mea perspectiva. Este absolut incredibil.