A Moveable Feast
“It sounds very silly. But to really love two women at the same time, truly love them, is the most destructive and terrible thing that can happen to a man. You lie to everyone all around, and all you know is that you love two women. There is all that time when you do things that are impossible, and when you are with one you love her, and with the other you love her. You break all promises and you do everything you knew that you could never do before. And the strange part is that you are happy. But as it goes on, the new one is not happy because she can see you love them both although she is still settling for that. When you are alone with her she knows you love her, and you never speak about the other to help her and to help yourself although you are past help. Finally, the old one who is relentless wins. But it is really the new one, the woman who loses, that wins, and that is the luckiest thing that has ever happened for her.
Remorse is a fine good thing and with a little luck and if I’d been a better man, it might have saved me for something worse instead of being my true and constant companion. Having become involved in it and being in love, I accepted all the blame for it myself and lived with the remorse. The remorse was never away day or night. I remember all of it, and how much we loved each other truly, and how I thought we were invulnerable. But we were not invulvernable, and that was the end of the first part…Nobody climbs on skis now and almost everybody breaks their legs, but maybe it is easier in the end to break your legs than to break your heart, although they say that everything breaks now and that sometimes, afterwards, many are stronger at the broken places. I do not know about that, but this is how life was in the early days when we were very poor and very happy.” – Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast