“it was my self that, in my suffering, I wanted to be able to find again.”

The desperation to express and still, I can’t seem to formulate and string my own words. Frustrating. This particular quote echoes and comes… maybe close. It burns and breaks in the least comfortable and yet most fitting spaces.

I tried to hold onto a small support separate from you, so I could cling to it the day you would no longer love me. This small support was not another man, it was not a dream, nor an image. It was what you called my egoism and my pride; it was my self that, in my suffering, I wanted to be able to find again. I wanted to be able to hold myself tight, alone with my pain, my doubts, my lack of faith. When I am in distress, only my sense of self gives me the strength to go on. When everything is changing, when everything is hurting me, I am me with myself. To have lost myself, I would have had to be sure I no longer needed myself.

— Marcelle Sauvageot, Commentary

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