The Journal of a Disappointed Man

I don't think I have any moral right to propose to any woman seeing the state of my health and I did not actually intend or wish to.... It was just to get it off my mind--a plain statement.... If I don't really and truly love her it was a perfectly heartless comedy. But I have good reason to believe I do. With me, moments of headstrong passion alternate with moods of perfectly immobile self-introspection. It is a relief to have spoken. November 10. Very miserable. Asked R---- three times to come and have dinner with me. Each time he refused. My nerves are completely jangled. Tu l'as voulu, George Dandin--that's the rub. November 11. She observed me carefully--I'm looking a perfect wreck --tu l'as voulu, George Dandin--but it's mainly ill-health and not on her account. I said,-- "Some things are too funny to laugh at." "Is that why you are so solemn?" "No," I answered, "I'm not solemn, I am laughing--some things are too solemn to be serious about." She saw me off at the door and smiled quietly--an amused faraway smile of feline satisfaction.... November 12. Horrible nervous depression. Thinking of suicide with a pistol--a Browning. Or of 10 days' mysterious disappearance, when I will go and live in a good Hotel, spend all my money, and live among human beings with eyes and noses and legs. This isolation. Am I going mad? If I disappeared, it would be interesting to see if any one missed me. November 13.