The Suicide of Wounded Pride

You won't keep me, and you won't let anyone keep you either. What kind of life is this of yours? What were you thinking? I go into someone else's house and you emerge victorious! Is everything really this simple?

I've done wrong by myself; I chose a path I knew would haunt me with guilt. Trying to distance myself from you, I took the wrong road—that wasn't right.

I harbored a fragile hope that you would forbid me from going to another man, but you said nothing. You didn't object in the slightest. Instead, it was as though you cleared the way for me! It doesn't matter to you who I spend my time with, I know that; yet if only you had told me once that you disapproved of what I was doing... I would never have betrayed myself like this. Now I despise myself. What have I done in my anger toward you!

It seems to me we'll end up living alone, the two of us, separate and apart. Home, family—these things were never meant for us. There's no sorrow in that, of course. How many years are left to live anyway? Nothing new will happen in my life anymore. Now I must prepare to fold everything away and disappear into the womb of time.

When my final hour comes, I want to give you one last message. I desperately want to believe you deserve it from me... I don't know why I'm thinking such strange thoughts!

Tell me—do you refuse to keep me because you love me? Or is it that I love you so much you won't belong to anyone else?