18
I’m sitting by the grand piano facing S. B. The Hungarian Embassy is across the road, it’s very pretty. The lesson’s not started yet, I’m looking out of the window – and find myself thinking about someone I loved long ago, when I was young. They are sad memories. What is love? Essentially, it is when you love another person the way you imagine them to be; in other words, you love your ideal of that person, i.e. the ideal as you imagine it. Another’s imprint on yourself. In other words, you love yourself. No matter how much you toy with the concept of sacrificial love, love remains egotistic. But whatever it is, it is better than the incapacity for love. Even unrequited love is better than nothing, since every block of flats should have a window, even if there is no door and no-one can
