Last Bender

I was standing over the middle of the river when I suddenly couldn’t account for my actions. Why had I done what I just did. I did not want to undo it and so I walked on. It is the same with love and friendship. I can catalogue the physical sensations of either but why I loved Sally or Simon cannot be completely told, even now, at this distance, even when I am trying to understand and when I am fighting the feeling of stupidty in the face of what is the futility of finding individual worth in a series of events that occur endlessly and make up the emotional metabolism of human beings. It is to me significant, this one leaf dropping in an autumn which is my whole story and yet, from above, disappears into time and generality.