To get back to the topic of fidelity – do you have the same problems I do? Could you not?
Your Averill isn’t the most physically alluring man, if you’ll forgive my saying so…I’ve always warned that choosing intellect over body entails great dangers. It seems so appealing, at first – here is this man with this great mind. I know. I’ve been there. It was that way with me and Bentley. I stupidly thought the attraction would last.
And then, of course, it doesn’t. After so many years (or months), the fascination wears off. His bon mots don’t seem so fresh, anymore. His witticisms have become tedious. His repartee, which you once thought brilliant, now drives you to frantically varnish your nails while he speaks. This is the point of extreme danger. Now that his mind has become wearisome to you, all he has left is the physical trapping, and that physical trapping, with men of intellect, is usually lamentable.
I know I have argued the reverse, one evening when you and I were both drinking just a little too much. That a pretty face can grow tiresome, too. This is a fact. After you have quenched your thirst for his body, a handsome man with no conversation becomes a stupid doll. Oh, it may take months, years even, but the moment will come. And then you’ll find yourself wanting to shake the wretched doll, shake it till its sawdust brain gives out.
And yet – how much more tragic is the relationship which once took off in a dazzling affair with the brain, a love for what was in the person rather than the flesh and blood hull, a spiritual affair, in other words…only to collapse onto itself and leave nothing but cold ashes and broken dreams…and a puny little man with glasses and no chest hair. Thank god Burke is not puny.
But you see my point, dear – yes, life with an inane doll will bore you frantically, after the novelty has worn off. However, you can still shag his brains out of a bored evening. But the man you once revered for his intellectual powers, who then deflates on you like a pompous balloon, will be of no use whatsoever. Unless he’s rich. And even then - I’m famous, as you know, for saying I prefer brains to money. And that’s only a slight exaggeration, a fairly minor deviation from the truth. Believe me, no amount of luxury can make you forget how appalling his once adored profile looks on your pillow, when you wake up in the morning.
Don’t say I didn’t warn you…
Lisa
Your Averill isn’t the most physically alluring man, if you’ll forgive my saying so…I’ve always warned that choosing intellect over body entails great dangers. It seems so appealing, at first – here is this man with this great mind. I know. I’ve been there. It was that way with me and Bentley. I stupidly thought the attraction would last.
And then, of course, it doesn’t. After so many years (or months), the fascination wears off. His bon mots don’t seem so fresh, anymore. His witticisms have become tedious. His repartee, which you once thought brilliant, now drives you to frantically varnish your nails while he speaks. This is the point of extreme danger. Now that his mind has become wearisome to you, all he has left is the physical trapping, and that physical trapping, with men of intellect, is usually lamentable.
I know I have argued the reverse, one evening when you and I were both drinking just a little too much. That a pretty face can grow tiresome, too. This is a fact. After you have quenched your thirst for his body, a handsome man with no conversation becomes a stupid doll. Oh, it may take months, years even, but the moment will come. And then you’ll find yourself wanting to shake the wretched doll, shake it till its sawdust brain gives out.
And yet – how much more tragic is the relationship which once took off in a dazzling affair with the brain, a love for what was in the person rather than the flesh and blood hull, a spiritual affair, in other words…only to collapse onto itself and leave nothing but cold ashes and broken dreams…and a puny little man with glasses and no chest hair. Thank god Burke is not puny.
But you see my point, dear – yes, life with an inane doll will bore you frantically, after the novelty has worn off. However, you can still shag his brains out of a bored evening. But the man you once revered for his intellectual powers, who then deflates on you like a pompous balloon, will be of no use whatsoever. Unless he’s rich. And even then - I’m famous, as you know, for saying I prefer brains to money. And that’s only a slight exaggeration, a fairly minor deviation from the truth. Believe me, no amount of luxury can make you forget how appalling his once adored profile looks on your pillow, when you wake up in the morning.
Don’t say I didn’t warn you…
Lisa
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