a difficult exercise

I do not love you; we have never met.
But you embody everything that is good in my life, Sonya!
When I talk with you, and when I turn my lamp off and say goodnight to you (always so hurriedly, as if we are afraid of what we might say to each other), and when I am alone without you… What sadness, Sonya!

Rain. It was late, and the student A- was propped up in his bed, writing in the cover of a novel under lamplight.

I do not love you! Well, not yet, but I know that I would love you, and that happiness is to grand to even comprehend!

“Grand?” he muttered, tossing that draft aside too

I love you… I’m sorry but I do…

“Tah, forget it!” he sighed, resuming his place in the book. He sat in stillness; he did not fully trust this new emotion.

“I must get out from under my parents!” he suddenly thought, “What man can resolve such questions when his meals are cooked, his bed made, his livelihood provided for? I thirst for the open road, for danger, for…and how many times in my life have I been wrong! How much have I been mistaken about! If only I knew!”

He went back to the inside cover and, pressing the nib as hard as he could, copied this out three times in rapid succession:
”I love you, Sonya!”
On the third time, by accident, it also escaped from him in a high pitch… and then, once more;
”I love you, Sonya! I will love you all my life!”
thundered through the house, tears wetting his cheeks.

A minute later a woman burst into his room.
”Alfred, for G-dsake!” his mother wailed, “It’s passed midnight, get into your bed!”
He scurried under the covers and pressed War and Peace to his chest. She wouldn’t take it from him this time…
"What’s the matter with you, Alfred?” his mother pleaded, seating herself on the edge of the bed and wiping his wet little cheeks.
"Tell me, darling. What are you so upset about?”
"That I’ll never meet her!” he piped, immediately frowning (he was trying to be less open with him mother; he didn’t like how freely he shared his dreams with her).
"Who, Alfred?”
She looked so beautiful in the moonlight, so kind, her eyes so open and loving…
"Sonya, Mama, Sonya who Rostov treats so poorly!”
”Oh Alfred!” his mother laughed, a tear also rolling down her cheek, “You are such a strange boy!”
"Will I meet her, Mama?”
"Darling, Sonya… she… well no, she’s not…”
There was a pause. Aldred looked up to her
A universe.
"Well maybe, darling, maybe… but now you need some sleep…”

His mother kissed him on the forehead and went out. A moment later he turned the lamp on again.

We must meet; the day after tomorrow. There’s a nice garden here, I’ll send someone for you…
“Perfect!” his little mind beamed, “Now I just need to find… Well, where does one find a manservant or an address anyway?”

He returned to the first chapter and began reading again, determined to find this information…

promise

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