My helpful dc inner voice which is seldom talkative, told me tonight under the shower (?!) "Laisse- les faire leur propre malheur, ne te salis pas les mains".
As it was the same one who told me in 1982 as I was on Orsay's campus Go and find their particle accelerator and then, take this paper (an add for the BEC and Oxford) and then find the money and take a registration, and that I met there my first love ; who told me "Ah tiens, c'est lui" quand je l'ai vu la première fois ; the same who told me "C'est mal foutu" after having thought that G and E that I met thinking they lived together and then understood they lived each with somebody else and some 8 or 10 years later they are a couple. The same who told me to SMS one of our common friend when A was in a very bad and dangerous shape and then they fall in love. The same who told me "Par dessus ça peut pas" when a car just turned back right in front of me biking avenue de Clichy and that I managed not to try to brake in vain but to zigzag and save my life ; the same who told me after our first sight with Francis "Too bad I'm not a chieuse hystérique (1), it won't be a shared love", same inner voice that sometimes tells me Beware, there's something's going on (alas with no regularity : bad things can happen to me without warning ; but the warning always occurs when something bad is bound to happen soon), I know I must listen.
But what happened with last summer's break-up keeps me deeply sad and I miss him bad and there is a deep injustice in him doing what he's done to me and going on happily as if everything was right and him a decent guy. Much too easy.
(1) théorie dite du Gros Manseng