But Then She Was Not

We Make Our Own Truths And Lies....truths Are Often Lies And Lies Truths.

The Tectonic Layers Of Our Lives Rest So Tightly One On Top Of The Other That We Always Come Up Against Earlier Events In Later Ones, Not As Matter That Has Been Fully Formed And Pushed Aside, But Absolutely Present And Alive. I Understand This. Nonetheless, I Sometimes Find It Hard To Bear.

Desires, Memories, Fears, Passions Form Labyrinths In Which We Lose And Find And Then Lose Ourselves Again.

Why? Why Does What Was Beautiful Suddenly Shatter In Hindsight Because It Concealed Dark Truths? Why Does The Memory Of Years Of Happy Marriage Turn To Gall When Our Partner Is Revealed To Have Had A Lover All Those Years? Because Such A Situation Makes It Impossible To Be Happy? But We Were Happy! Sometimes The Memory Of Happiness Cannot Stay True Because It Ended Unhappily. Because Happiness Is Only Real If It Lasts Forever? Because Things Always End Painfully If They Contained Pain, Conscious Or Unconscious, All Along? But What Is Unconscious, Unrecognized Pain?

There's No Need To Talk About It, Because The Truth Of What One Says Lies In What One Does.