Romance Page #2

One can be, without having...

And one can have, without being.

What can I do to have him?

Completely have him.

I wish,

you'd become pregnant.

Slim chance.

Why? There's no real reason why.

Exactly. Do you think the holy ghost,

will do it?

There hasn't been an opportunity,

ever since I stopped taking the pill.

I know you hate the details,

but there are certain points in time.

You hardly ever do it, and when you do it,

you're not willing to do your best,

...that way it'll never work.

And that's what gets me down.

Yes, but that's not the same.

If you told me, "Do your

job now!", I'd do it.

Is that true?

This would change everything.

If we had a child, we'd at least

have a reason to stay together.

Only because you have no confidence.

But it will return.

Like the myth of Circe...

One wants to know, what was before,

and what comes after...

You can't even let

the present unfold...

You force it.

Because you have no confidence,

everything comes to nothing.

What, if I went away?

And wouldn't call...

let's say two weeks or a month?

Or even six?

Would a story like ours

come to an end?

That depends.

If you went to the north pole,

or into the desert maybe...

But telling yourself in

a phone cell each day:

I won't call that silly cow.

And spending your time in all the bars

just around the corner,

that's what I call a breach.

I speak of freedom,

and you talk about bars?

These are statistics.

A man has to put the world in order,

with his buddies in a bar sometimes.

Or he'll break.

And you know,

that I don't deceive you.

It would be better if you deceived me,

but f***ed me too...

However, I can be unfaithful,

you have no right to.

Have you already done it?

You speak about it so often.

No.

But you deserve to believe otherwise.

Okay.

Tomorrow evening,

I'll have dinner with Ashley.

You can come,

but you know what I'd prefer...

If I didn't come.

I'm well aware, that I should let him

lead his own life.

All the time I cling to him

like a leech.

Because I'm in love.

Crazy about him.

What he calls "breathing"...

suffocates me.

I've never demanded to be free.

And I don't want him to be either.

I have an enormous claim

to the absolute.

And I believe, that I'm right.

But as soon as I transfer it

to real life,

an appalling schizophrenia

arises in my head.

He dances...

to seduce.

He seduces, to conquer.

He wants to conquer,

because he's a man.

What's got into you?!

Making a scene,

because I dance with some girl?

That's not some girl... a tart, a whore.

So what? I don't care about her anyway.

You shouldn't have cared about her.

Anyway, I won't have someone

elses baby.

Do I really have to pull it over?

I haven't had sex in 6 months now.

I don't have AIDS.

Still, you're making progress.

You seem to like it.

You even come on strong.

You want me to watch you, doing it.

With the first,

you did it secretly.

You think so?

- Yes, I do.

And I didn't dare looking at it,

because I don't like to look at d*cks.

When they are used,

I find them disgusting.

Unaesthetic.

You're right, quite disgusting.

Like a tampon.

When you want to f***, you have to take it

out discretely and drop it under the bed...

Guys find everything disgusting.

And afterwards,

you have to reuse it again.

I really like it, when it's disgusting.

Do you know why most guys

don't want to use condoms?

Because their d*cks don't get hard.

As they say...

Flexible as rubber.

I don't know, I don't sleep

with guys.

But it's true.

They become flabby all the time.

Because they...

are not driven by real desire.

Like in porn movies... the girls...

have their mouths full

with those flabby things...

and blow,

because they are not desirable.

I think, either a guy has to take you,

without losing a word,

or at least, without boring you

with his nonexistent desire.

A blow-job is quite good sometimes.

Well...

It's okay.

If a guy could f*** you

and simply doesn't.

That's like the agonies of Tantalus.

Even I have to admit,

that I'm capable of feeling them then.

And feel even worse,

when he fucks you in the end.

And most men

have d*cks...

Short...

thin and pointed.

Pointed?

Like the d*cks of dogs.

I hate that.

Not only the length matters...

but also the whole structure.

A thin dick has no dignity.

Do you want me to f*** your ass?

No. Not yet.

I want to f*** again,

I'm not satisfied yet.

My guy doesn't f*** me, you know.

How can you love a man,

who doesn't f*** you?

I don't love those who f*** me,

I hate them.

I don't want to see

those who f*** me...

...don't look at them.

I just want to be a hole, a chasm.

The more gaping...

the more obscene...

the more it's me, my intimacy,

the more I step back.

It's metaphysical:

I disappear proportionally to the size

of the dick, that allegedly takes me.

I get hollowed out.

This is my purity.

Do you like to be stroked on the back?

No, I don't like tenderness.

No intimate kisses on my lips either.

That's unbearable to me.

You know, I don't care,

who stuffs my c*nt.

But kissing someone,

I don't love...

That's too intimate.

But I did kiss Paolo,

I simply felt like it.

When I kissed Paolo,

every thought of Paul vanished.

Therefore I decided,

not to see him again.

It's a question of integrity.

What are you doing?

Nothing. I have to go to work.

Do you like my dick?

Its smell.

- You are disgusting.

I'm not. It smells good.

I like the fact, that it's not too big.

It fits well into my hand,

and into my mouth.

Why do you like it?

'Cause it's mine.

I don't know...

It's like a bird.

I get the feeling,

of holding a little bird in my hand.

See, if one moves it like that

just a little,

one could get the impression,

it's about to fly away.

But it doesn't. I find that touching.

Is it bad, that we don't go further?

I find it terrible,

that I must not caress you.

It's like an incredible insult.

- But you may, if you want to.

Just not to finish off.

Don't worry, I won't come either.

Dictation.

The...

winter months.

Everybody...

got used to...

leading...

an ordinary life.

Full stop.

And...

then...

all of...

a sudden...

Comma...

the...

light...

started shining...

again.

Full stop.

The...

springtime...

had come!

Exclamation mark.

I know, that I make at least

one mistake per syllable.

It's still a real mystery to me,

how I could ever pass the exams.

Just like the driving test.

I don't know how to park a car at all.

The latter is not as grave.

You can only say that, 'cause you're not

behind me, when I park in second row.

It's because I'm a dysla...

Dysle...

Dyslexic.

Just like in mathematics.

The calculations are always correct,

but I'll never learn

the multiplication tables.

That's annoying.

It's nice in here...

Surprised?

The best things

come in small packages...

Women like to discover things

they've already seen on TV.

Currently Japanese caravans are hot,

so I have them.

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