Mirror

I wrote, that I met someone similar to the only person I still, unfortunately, have feelings for, even though, in fact, his body has been rotting for a few years, and his soul has flown away (where? I don’t know). In fact, I found only one difference between them. My new one, my ersatz, he has talent. The previous one, although I can say that I loved him very much, had no talent, nor any real interests, honestly and objectively. He loved money and had a weakness for traveling, and for trinkets. But does inheritance make passion?

With this new one, things are quite different. I don’t know much about him, I don’t want to be disappointed, so I hardly ask any questions. The less I know about him and ask, the more he is a continuation of my dead husband, who was never my husband, but I tell myself that.

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