THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE
We are always at some odds. More so now, the more I know about your life- You've got a cynicism your age hasn't earned, but you are always an idealist, always holding people to extremely high standards, disappointed by the results.
I am not an idealist. I am a bridge burner, an escapist. A runaway. I am apt to be charmed, to be amused- am sympathetic, always, as a first response. Not out of morality, just out of experience. But I don't have any problem with dramatic action.
You talk about your future and what you want, and I still find most of it a plan for a life that's absolutely inescapable, which I could never stand.
I have no real problem with my homelessness, with being without long term plans, being without a country, without a family- I am happy to sit in a city that is probably only home-for-now and drink coffee and watch you smoke everyday. I am content.
You are never content, but you are romantic, which I am not. You are incredibly restless, unable to sit alone with your own thoughts. My patience is always endless.
I try to explain- My life here is new. I can't see what it is yet, not enough of it has happened. But I haven't got any routine to become bored with. I am still surprised not only by every day interactions but by my own reactions to them.
I told you once that you would have to work extremely hard to alter my high opinion of you.
I still don't know how I look to you.