“Foreign Country is the past; they do things differently there … “begins L. P. Hartley in” The Go-Between. ” Now there is a line that has always stuck with me. You see, although I can tell the past from time to time. Of course you know – I don’t like being with him. Why? Well, because of the same line I think. That is, even yesterday’s actions may not have any real influence today, if they can help …
Don’t Really Love her
And so, despite my “sometimes” moments about Jane as I call them (usually when I foolishly compare each person to her). I still refuse to regret. After all, I may have felt a lot of things back then. But I know now that I don’t really love her; I honestly didn’t do it. Instead, I was just in conflict with my idealism back then, that’s all.
However, now I must confess that my heart was almost not just in my mouth. But practically leaving the sidewalk the next day when I thought I saw it. It was just a look on the street; Do you know that one of these was / were not the moments that passed in a literal blink of an eye. And I mean, I’m sure it wasn’t her. He went to do “meedjah” abroad and stayed there as far as I know (but everyone was allowed the vacation right). So it wouldn’t have been, it couldn’t have been.
But here’s the thing. Once I got back from the uncharacteristic equivalent of being hit for six by an oncoming bus. As I continued my journey, maybe still numb, suddenly a song I had long forgotten about soon. Look, I’ve never revealed this before. But even when Jane and I were “seeing” each other (smiling), this was always my song for her. And so, even though this numbness was slowly replaced by an uneasy tingling, the sound of an almost fair accordion accordion was now going round and round inward, inevitably followed by those rather haunting opening lines; – You talk like Marlene Dietrich …
Guess the Song
Do you know the song? Sure, yes, I’m sure. It’s Peter Sarsted’s classic “Where Are You Going (My Lovely)” cracker? Anyway, just for the record Jane didn’t talk about Marlene Dietrich. She didn’t dance like Zizi Jeanmaire, as far as I know, was not in the Rolling Stones and didn’t know Sacha Distel, Picasso or even Aga Khan (ha-ha-ha) to be honest.
In fact, as I recall, he always preferred a shiraz to Napoleon Brandy, spoke only English, never studied at the Sorbonne, rarely spent his holes in St. Moritz or Juan-les-Pines (even though) didn’t even own a “carefully designed topless swimsuit” that did wonders for her bronze. The fact that she was already thirty when we met means that “You are between twenty and thirty, a very desirable age,” it hardly applies.
Firm and Welcoming
Then what the hell am I talking about then? Well, I mean, there are at least some similarities in the fact that, yes, her body was “firm and welcoming”, and yes, there were many who used to “cling to each word” (however, that was more than fear (instead of infatuation / lust) because it was undoubtedly a major role in the “bright scene” news agency. He even had a “fancy apartment”, though it was off Kings Road and not “St. Boulevard.” Michel “.
But that’s not the case either. Instead, it is about the elegant, sophisticated, sexy and completely untouchable woman that this song evokes – a slightly different kind of fantasy for the younger man in love, if you like the most ordinary or a garden of the lady Robinson – because that was Jane in a nutshell.
Married the Millionaire
However, if you know the song really well, you will also be taken in by the sub-stream of almost bitter irony that runs through it; In that “Marie-Claire” she was not brought much happiness or contentment with everything she has now or would have had even if she had indeed married that “millionaire”.
Well, Jane had already paired with her when our trial was underway and she was not satisfied with it, neither did it. I always knew this, just like the way the singer can look at Marie-Claire’s face and say, “just remember who you are.” Please tell us that none of us were once “two children begging for disdain” (although Jane’s own unhappy past, at the same time, did not throw her “burning ambition” to peak). it was never outside to show the idea that I could see “inside her head. I mean, I couldn’t anyway; otherwise I may not have let her go.
And finally, this is the clinker. You see, I let her “go away and forget me forever” that evening at Covent Garden Station, after one last kiss, which told her everything I couldn’t say. Of course, when I saw it, that special verse didn’t mean what it meant now. It was only later that I added a needle