You are absolutely right…waiting is a feminine experience, reinforced by Schubert’s lied in a cool night far away from the chosen one. Inhabiting the measure of time — to be or not to be with the object or subject of ultimate love — is also part of the game…and perhaps not being drowned in the extremes of anguish and relief the passive act itself proposes.

Thank you again for stopping by, and for suggesting Gretchen…I am now listening to Fleming’s live version of the lied. It is true…it enhances the experience.

See you around.

Regards,

W.

I am sorry about the little maths trick I had to introduce, but I recently got spammed out of my mind with inadequate comments and I had to change the default spam protection add-on with this thing I found online.

I do not think this is about despair, it is probably about hope against hope — eventually, that can turn into despair. My dear, I will more than need your support now that a Beatrice-like figure has crossed my path. I’m glad you liked the post, it was a flash of reflection in yesterday night’s waiting session.

More on this later,

Warmest regards,

W.

Optimism is there, even when the tides are really turning quite roughly, to be honest. Thank you for your wishes, as I imagined, she was more than worth the wait.

Thanks and talk to you soon!

W.

Thank you for stopping by. Certainly waiting is an art…I hope one day I’ll do it exceptionally well. In the meantime, I’m learning…

Regards,
W.