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in the same condition as the day wore on, aimless, without hope, without any desire even to fight the inevitable, yet as water struggles underneath a rock, so did the instinct of life work underneath despair, my emotions were at war with each other. I felt like one bleeding from a thousand wounds in this struggle with myself. I felt as if in God's Kingdom there was not another that suffered as I did.

And still the whole affair filled me with amazement at my own nature. I had known him only a few days, I had spoken to him a few times only. Was I then going mad that I should give way to my feelings in this way? I felt as if I could draw into my being at once all the beauty and sorrow, the joy and agony, the happiness and misery of all existence since that sacred moment when my soul touched his.

I had thought I loved the other, but oh,