He was in his head a flow and a spate of uncertainties that could have inherited even the most vigorous brain: it was a bit violently agitated and harassed; he had some angry starts, such extravagant and desperate hopes that he really did not know how to he had not died of these torments.
He followed the idea of the unrequited love, his only concern, so much so that he was amazed that this was not clearly seen in his body, as a candle can be seen in a lantern, and he feared fear of death discover who she loved. Even so, even his buddy, the only person interested to capture any changes in his heart, seemed to have noticed absolutely nothing, believed that she too was too busy with love for her lover to be able to pay attention to the fact that she was dealing with her but it was not too puffy.
Neither his buddy has shown in any way until today that he has the most suspicion of his soul-state, always speaking in a familiar and friendly tone, like a well-grown young man addressing a young man of his age, and no more.
His conversation passed with indifference from one subject to another, they talked about art, poetry and other such things, but nothing intimate, nothing precise to look at him or her. It may be that the reasons that forced him to live are gone and that he will soon resume his usual clothes.
Expressions, which may have seemed common in other circumstances, now gained a special relief, and all that mistletoe of comparisons and love protests seemed to have been retouched, giving him an absolutely new look, dealt and ideas, even if not were the most delightful how they were.