I don't speak to my family except for legal matters or when someone dies. It's been like this for some fifteen years now, which is about the half of my life. My uncle died, as it turns out. Hadn't thought of him for years. Suddenly I was faced with the gaping difference of my opinion of him as a child versus now, judging from the same facts. Yes! He's dead and I'm going to speak bad about him. Shocking, I know. Earlier this year I met a woman who reminded me of my cousin. I never meet women who remind me of her! A butch but soft-hearted lesbian with a buzz cut. When we were kids everyone thought she was a boy. This woman was just like that, even the stories she shared about her family were quite familiar. It's been years since my cousin got her heart broken. The love of her life, possibly. They were so good together, I enjoyed hanging out with them together more than with each separately. The girlfriend broke off the engagement because my cousin's family...
I wanted to say something like, I have yet to find a problem that wouldn't be solved with money. But that's not the entire truth. Money works even on heartbreak. You take up a new venture, or invest in something. Suddenly you have to learn a lot of new things, in a few months' time your life becomes unrecognizable from what it looked like when you loved that person. You will find you still have some love for them but you no longer want to act on it. You outgrew that. That's roughly the wheels on which my life runs. I am relatively happy because I live a life in which I am not a stranger, it is something my heart is in - even if it was also in other things that I would have much preferred. But had I never had to do all this, I would have been relatively happy as well - because if an affair broke my heart, it means my heart must have had been it it, which is the base for happiness. Kundera I think wrote somewhere that comparing diverging life paths like this never ...