Gatsbys

Jul 20, 2013 19:47

I have been thinking.

There are people similar to Gatsby out there. Holding on to a hope of a love, made so ideal and perfect, unreachable that nothing else can satisfy.

There must have been moments even that afternoon when Daisy tumbled short of his dreams - not through her own fault, but because of the colossal vitality of his illusion. It had gone beyond her, beyond everything. He had thrown himself into it with a creative passion, adding to it all the time, decking it out with every bright feather that drifted his way. No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man can store up in his ghostly heart.

My mum says find a man who loves you more than you love him.  (I do not agree.)

I recently told a friend that a woman only really needs a man who loves her.  But that's incomplete or insufficient, as the friend pointed out.  I realised the assumption is that - Surely, the woman must love the man too.

6 years, he said.

For the first time, I see a glimpse of Gatsby's illusion and I don't know how to deal with it.

My heart feels heavy.

affinity, fear, literature, quotational, reflections, wornout

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