amori e debolezze
I loved that sense of normality which began then in our lives, going to bed early together, worrying about shopping or washing clothes or paying bills. I though a few times of the pleasure it would give me if I were pregnant or if a child that was half mine were growing inside him. I understood something of the world around us, what made people happy, which I had not known before. I loved everything about him, his underwear, his socks, his silence.
I felt that he suffered in some strange, withdrawn way which I could not fathom and could not share.
Sometimes I felt that I was able to comfort him; mostly in the dark, in bed, but sometimes in the evening when we were tired, I sensed some terrible hurt or wound or fear in him.
I tried to let him know that I was vulnerable too in ways I did not know and could not express and I would need his help to get through.
Colm Tóibín – The story of the Night
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