The End of the Affair
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
British (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
I needn't wonder anymore. There's nothing to fear anymore. This is the end. But dear God, what shall I do with this desire to love? Why do I write? Dear God, he isn't dear, not to me. He isn't if he exists. Then he put the thought of this vow into my mind, and I hate him for it. I hate every few minutes of Grey Stone Church in a public house run backwards down the line, and the desert is full of churches and public houses and multiple stores and men on bicycles and grass and cows and factory chimneys. You see them through the sand like fish through the water in the tank, and Henry waits to in the tank, raising his muzzle for my kiss. We paid no attention to the sirens. They didn't matter. We weren't afraid of dying that way. But then the raid went on and on. It wasn't an ordinary raid. The papers aren't allowed to say yet, but everybody knows this was the new thing we had been warned about. Maurice went downstairs to see if there was anyone in the basement. He was afraid about me, and I was afraid about him. I knew something was going to happen. He hadn't been gone two minutes when there was an explosion in the street. His room is at the back and nothing happened. Except the door was sucked open and some plaster fell. But I knew that he was at the front of the house When the bomb fell, I went downstairs. They were cluttered with rubbish and broken bannisters. And the hall was in an awful mess. I didn't see more recent first and then I saw his arm coming up from under the door. I touched his hand. I could have sworn it was a dead hand. When two people have loved each other, they can't disguise a lack of tenderness in a kiss. And wouldn't I have recognised life if there was any of it left in touching his hand? I knew that if I took his hand and pulled it toward me, it would come away all by itself, from under the door. Now, of course, I knew that this was hysteria. I was cheated. He wasn't dead. Is one responsible for what one promises in hysteria or what promises one breaks? I'm hysterical now, writing all this down. But there's not a single person anywhere to whom I can even say I'm unhappy because they would ask me why and the questions would begin and I would break down. I mustn't break down because I must protect Henry. Oh, to **** with Henry. To **** with Henry. I want somebody who will accept the truth about me and doesn't need protection. If I'm a bitched and a fake is then nobody who will love a ***** and a fake. I knelt down on the floor. I was mad to do such a thing. I never even had to do it as a child. My parents never believed in prayer any more than I do. I hadn't any idea what to say. Maurice was dead extinct. There wasn't such a thing as a soul. Even if the half happiness I gave him was drained out of him like blood, he would never have the chance to be happy again with anybody. I thought somebody else could have loved him and made him happier than I could. But now he won't have that chance. I knelt and put my head on the bed and wished I could believe dear God, I said, Why, dear why, dear, Make me believe I can't believe Make me I said, I'm a ***** and a fake and I hate myself and I can't do anything of myself. Make me believe I shut my eyes tight and I pressed my nails into the palms of my hand until I could feel nothing but the pain. And I said, I will believe let him be alive and I will believe Give him a chance. Let him have his happiness. Do this and I'll believe that wasn't enough. It doesn't hurt to believe. So I said I love him and I'll do anything if you make him alive, I said very slowly, I'll give him up forever. Only let him be alive with a chance. And I pressed and pressed and I could feel the skin break. And I said People can love without seeing each other, can't they? They love you all their lives without seeing you. And then he came in at the door and he was alive. And I thought now the agony of being without him starts, and I wished he was safely back dead under the door again.