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I have always been annoyed by people who claim to be in love. They are a selfish lot, proclaiming their affections endlessly. Similarly, I can't bear newly weds who, still in their first raptures, are repulsively giddy. But that wanes after a few years.

My experience was a bit more troublesome. After we parted there was a long period when I could not stop thinking about her. And then, I discovered that everything beautiful conformed to her beauty. I saw her face in the stone arabesques of my university. Her fingers clutched the binding of old vellum books in the library. Her color stained the autumnal apples that I ate.

It was a miserable period. It still is.