The Devil And His Love

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                                 »Don't wanna let you down

                                       But I am hell bound

                                   Though this is all for you

                                 Don't wanna hide the truth

                                       Imagine Dragons

»So,« Salome spoke. »how long have you been in love with him?«

»Excuse me?« That question took me by surprise.

»The way you look at him, you can't deny it.«

»I...I don't even like him.« I mumbled. Sometimes I really didn't favor him at all.

»Oh chérie, liking has nothing to do with whom we fall in love with. I loved quite a few men that I absolutely detested.« Her face slightly cringed, as if there was something bitter in her tea.

Her presence made me nervous, but in a good way. Salome was like an echo of the past, the long forgotten seductive and mysterious character, a true femme fatale.

»What do you mean?« I asked, admiring her full lips, so jealous of them.

»Take Freud for example, - «

»You knew Freud? The Freud?« A tingling sensation filled my inner geek.

She rolled her blue eyes. »Oh Freud, Freud, he was definitely overrated. You know,« Her hands locked together beneath her chin in the most elegant way. »he was the exact definition of a man – all he did the entire life was occupying himself with his dick.«

»What?« I almost burst out laughing.

»Mhm, that was all he did. He either wrote about male sexuality, or thought about male sexuality.«

»But he wrote about girls too, didn't he?«

»Don't get me started on that!« She angrily banged the table with her hand, which was still carefully dressed in a black velvet glove. »He said that girls experience interest in their own sexuality at the age of 12. Can you believe that?! 12, and boys at 2...You know, I said to him,« Salome spoke of Sigmund Freud as if he were a friend, a neighbour she saw just yesterday. »I said; Sigmund, don't be a fool! I am a woman, therefore I know about women more than you. But did he listen? No, he just awarded me with a simple reply, saying that – I was extra ordinary, that I can't 'put other women in the same basket'. How I loathed him.«

»Were you in love with him?«

»Of course.«

»But you said you hated him...«

»And? As I explained before – you don't have to like the person you're in love with, your mind doesn't choose them, your heart does. If our minds could have chosen, there would be no broken hearts.«

That was true. I truly hated when you fell for the wrong person, and someone said to you; Just get over him. Fall in love with someone else. And they said it with such easiness. To me, it was an insult. You can't choose your sexual orientation, the colour of your skin, your gender...and you most definitely can't choose with whom you fall in love with.

»That would be a nice world.« I said, thinking about a world that never existed.

»Maybe so, but it wouldn't be real. The greatest romance lies in wishful thinking.« There was definitely a soul of a poet inside that immortal beauty. »As I always said, all love is tragic. Requited love dies of satiation, unrequited of starvation.«

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