Irish
Irish
8. Everyone feels their own hurt first.
Foolish! Foolish! Foolish! Amn’t I foolish? Amn’t I daft?. Haven’t I no sense? Everyone feels their own hurt first. That’s how it was with me. I felt my own hurt. My own hurt and not my girlfriend’s hurt. Why wouldn’t she want to go out dancing? Why wouldn’t she want to go to the cinema or to a restaurant?
Why wouldn’t she? She’s a young woman. I’m a young man. These are the things young people do: they keep each other company. They speak to each other. They go out together. They have a relationship. But me … how engrossed I was in my work. I always let work get the better of me. I don’t avoid work but I avoid people.
I would prefer to spend long hours in front of the computer than to spend an hour walking beside a lake. I would prefer to have my fingers dancing on the keyboard than to entwine those same fingers with my girlfriend’s fingers. I would prefer to have a long conversation about the galaxy than to walk under the full moon with my girlfriend. Foolish. Senseless. Daft. That’s me. That’s me.
It’s no surprise my girlfriend left me. It’s no surprise she got tired of the boring company. It’s no surprise she went her own way. It’s no surprise she was dissatisfied with this relationship of ours. Relationship? Can I even call it a relationship?
It was a false relationship – and it was my fault it was false.
It was I who told lies. It was I who disheartened her. It was I who disheartened her with all my talk of facts and statistics. I looked up to heaven and I saw scientific questions. She looked up to heaven and she saw the beauty of the universe. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand the science. She understood – as much as I did. But I was blind to the beauty. I was trying to control the universe. She was trying to understand the universe. There’s a big difference.
I am lonely thinking about us. It’s a great heartbreak. It’s my own fault. My own fault. I was foolish. I was daft. I had no sense. I put my work in first place and I suffered because of it. So be it. There’s no point in complaining any more.
I’ve said everything for tonight. I will get back to work. There’s no escaping work. There’s no escaping science. There’s no escaping maths nor science nor the galaxy. I am lonely tonight, however and I’ll be lonely tomorrow as well. But I’ll carry on with the work. I won’t fail in this area. I am blind when it comes to matters of the heart but at least I understand scientific matters. I understand the work I am doing. I understand the challenge before me. I will not fail. I will build the spaceship. I will have some compensation for the heartbreak.
Don’t let anyone be worried. I am not beaten. I am not broken. That’s life. That’s life. I will soon be back in good form. I will get back to work. I will do great things in this lab. Wait and see. I will be talked about some day. I and my achievements will be talked about. I will be famous some day. Let no-one worry. On we go. On we go to the stars.
