He shakes his head. “Crazy thing is, I still love her. You know?”
I nod dumbly.
“I guess that’s the price you pay for falling in love,” he shrugs.
I wonder if it’s worth it. Look at Dan, still pining for his lost love ten years on. Look at me, pining for a man who’s in love with his wife who doesn’t love him. So many of us out there, pining away. Why this flaw in the genetic code of our attraction? It’s like we’re programmed to suffer, like there really is a juvenile God out there that Jung was hinting at, a nasty, sadistic kid of a God who enjoys pulling the fragile little wings off our hopes and dreams and desires. I just don’t understand it, I really don’t. Finding someone to fall in love with is hard enough; finding someone who loves you back is almost impossible. I’m not talking about sexual attraction. I’m talking about love. If sex was all I wanted I’d have tumbled Jim into my bed long ago.
The day is warm and sunny. Inside me a sad chill has settled on my heart.
contemporary fiction set in as small country town in coastal South Australia