Last winter I reacted to someone I had never met before in a way that I hadn't thought possible. I suppose that's what is meant by knees turning to water. It was a kind of softening and opening up, both mentally and physically. Since then I've been completely muddled up and have made myself a nuisance to him.

When we met last summer I thought I guessed (actually I wondered whether the words I heard in my mind were his, or whether I had made them up myself) what he wanted me to say. I wanted to be able to say it, but some things are impossible. He said that he had to do everything, and that I could meet him half way. But as I saw it, I had already done more than enough, and he wouldn't give me the least sign that it would be possible to proceed. I couldn't take the risk of ridicule and rejection; I felt myself ridiculous enough as it was, a comical figure from a stupid film from the 1930s, a "Figure of Fun in Finnish Farce". I saw his disappointment. If he had known me better, he'd have known that what he espected from me was impossible (what I thought he expected, to be exact), although in my madness I had forgotten it myself. Later I tried to explain by email, but of course I couldn't be explicit enough. I don't know how much he understood, but I think it would have been possible to arrive at a right conclusion. Still, everything deteriorated fast after that.

I can't help missing him, as disagreeable as it is for him.