Anyone Who Says That Women Do Not

He Was In My Hair, My Eyes, My Fingers, My Heart. I Day-dreamed About What He Was Doing, Thinking, Seeing, Smelling, Feeling. I Could Not Eat For Thoughts Of Him.

I’ve Never Thought Much About Whether I Was Happy Or If I Had Fun As A Child. I Was A So-so Girl Who Lived With A So-so Family In A So-so Village. I Didn’t Know That There Might Be Another Way To Live, And I Didn’t Worry About It Either.

Mama Used To Tell Us A Story About A Cicada Sitting High In A Tree. It Chirps And Drinks In Dew, Oblivious To The Praying Mantis Behind It. The Mantis Arches Up Its Front Leg To Stab The Cicada, But It Doesn't Know An Oriole Perches Behind It. The Bird Stretches Out Its Neck To Snap Up The Mantis For A Midday Meal, But Its Unaware Of The Boy Who's Come Into The Garden With A Net. Three Creatures—the Cicada, The Mantis And The Oriole—all Coveted Gains Without Being Aware Of The Greater And Inescapable Danger That Was Coming.

I've Come To Believe That Part Of Lovesickness Comes From This Conflict Between Control And Desire. In Love We Have No Control. Our Hearts And Minds Are Tormented, Teased, Enticed And Delighted By The Overwhelming Strength Of Emotions That Make Us Try To Forget The Real World.

When You Don’t Have Much, Having Less Isn’t So Bad.