Aleksandar Tišma - The Use of Man

May 19

Today I feel unwell. Yesterday I worked hard, but the worst of the pain is over. Kleinchen was here. Asked for me. Unfortunately, I was out. It doesn’t matter, for now I know he doesn’t despise me, that he will come again. I would love to see him! Or is that a lie? Ah, the plant has put down deep roots.

May 22

Today Kleinchen was supposed to come here, he promised. Now it’s eight o’clock, the bells are ringing — no sign of him. Kleinchen, why did you not keep your promise?

If only God had made me tougher. Why must I be so sensitive? Why must I suffer like this? God in heaven, give me the strength to forget. Kleinchen, my heart weeps.

Sunday, June 2, 1935

For a few days I stopped writing. I felt wretched in mind and body. Next week I’ll see a doctor. I must. God only knows what will happen to me. Let no ill befall me, let me carry out what I have planned. Now there are only a few lessons to give, but I am weary, terribly weary. I’m afraid of the day that is drawing near…. Why did I choose that day? Thirteen is an unlucky number, but I will not give in to that. The 13th will certainly open up old wounds. God, I wish for only one thing — to know what he thinks of me. Almighty God, do not abandon me.

The summer holidays are near. How will I spend them? I would like to see my native region, press my wounded heart against the cold tomb, on my knees pray to the dear Mother of God, to pray endlessly. I would like to see the ocean, travel, travel to forget. I know there are great struggles ahead of me. The struggle for my daily bread. The struggle with my heart. The struggle with death. If I could weep aloud just once. A weight on my chest. I don’t know for sure what it is. Loss, worry, everything chokes me. Father, dear Father in Heaven, give peace to my weary soul. Heavenly Father, don’t let me be ill. Hear my prayer.

June 11

Whitsun passed without joy. I hoped that I would receive some token of remembrance from Kleinchen, a greeting, as for Easter, but nothing. Often my eyes fill with tears, because, in addition to everything, I must keep my promise. I swore on my own health that I would not call him again — but it has to be. The 13th draws near, one more day, and then, God willing, I start my journey. I must go away, collect my thoughts, rest. On my journey I will learn much, I will visit all the places I loved — visit them for the last time. It will be autumn soon. But the hardest thing is my heart. It yearns, suffers, poor empty heart. I would like to have my own home, someone to understand me. Dear God in Heaven, be with me. Let me be good and worthy.

Ten more days of teaching.

Dear, dear Kleinchen, may God bless you and give you happiness. I wish you that with all my heart.

June 13

Tonight I dreamed of you, Kleinchen, you were with me, I was in your arms, and I wondered, dreaming, if the dream was true. When I woke up, my arms were empty. Dearest one, come today; today is the 13th.

No, you won’t come. You won’t come, however much I want you.

Today many difficult hours are ahead of me.

June 13

It’s nine o’clock in the evening, the bell announces the time and also the end of my dream. Laying my desire to rest in the grave. Kleinchen, dearest one, farewell. Farewell forever, and may God bless you and with you all those dear to you. I can’t, I won’t, be angry with you, because it’s not your fault. Lord, miraculous, invisible Force that directs and rules us all, do not abandon me! Give me consolation, take pity on me! Grant my wish and give me peace, rest. Kleinchen, I write this with my heart’s blood.

June 26

I haven’t written anything for thirteen days. And what was there to write? My heart is a throbbing wound. I have conquered, but I cannot forget. As I leave, Almighty God, help me! I will visit my father’s grave, but also want to do something for my health. Whenever I take up this book, my eyes fill with tears. I did what I swore to do, but God, how empty my life is.

July 5

The fifth day of my travels. I’m here at Kustošija, at Klara’s. They are both good people, but I’m afraid of being a burden to them. I still feel terrible. I can find no peace. I would gladly continue on my way without a pause. God in heaven, be with me. There’s a bitterness in me, as if I hated everyone. Heavenly God, hear my prayer, you know what would bring me tranquillity.

July 14

When I began my travels, I thought that I would write something every day in this little book, but things have turned out differently. I’m tired, I sleep a great deal, and that is for the best. To sleep and not feel anything. I haven’t gone to a doctor yet, afraid of finding out the truth. This week I must go back, unspeakably difficult for me, but I must. For the last time my eyes will take in all the dear places where I was once happy— but also terribly unhappy. Almighty God in Heaven, do not abandon me!

August 11

It’s almost a month since I jotted anything down, yet so much has happened. The first thing was that I went to a doctor and, thank God, he gave me a favorable diagnosis. He told me that he wished all his women patients were as healthy as I was, and assured me that I was in no danger. With that illness, he said, you can live a hundred years. And then: Be brave; when you feel the pain, come to Kárpáti. And walk, walk a great deal, move around a lot, and, most of all: love. That’s what the kind little doctor said. I like thinking of him, of his soft eyes. How charming, the way he hurriedly lowered them when I looked at him. He said: Women don’t find understanding in men, which generates neurosis, and neurosis, in turn, generates all sorts of illnesses. He was right. I will follow his advice, and I’m so grateful to him — and glad that he found pleasure in looking at me.

And now — Egon.

Egon, little Egon, handsome you are not, but there is something about you that excites. You’re not honest, not sincere, but what does that matter: you kiss well. Passionately. I love your kisses. You want to drink the glass to the bottom, but it didn’t work out for you. Be my friend; a friend is what I want, nothing more. Nothing more, because I saw into you, saw through you— poor little fool. But it was good. I had several fine hours with you, I won’t forget them. You made promises and swore by many things, but it was all deception. Silly little Egon.

I’m over it. Yesterday I suffered, today I’m singing. But in the depths of my soul, God only knows. Now off to the theater.

August 13

I woke up happy. Yesterday I was with Egon. He was kind and sweet, but now I must leave.

A good vacation, but too brief.

Egon, your kiss on my hand burns.

You don’t deserve it but I love you .

August 16

Home again! How miserable, to be here. Alone. It’s all over. Unspeakable pain, that everything must end this way. My departure from Zagreb was bleak, my future is bleak. Almighty God, you must not abandon me. Give me the strength to forget. My hardest hours are ahead. Will Egon answer? I can hardly believe he will, because I wounded him. It was partly his fault, though. I did spend some happy hours with him, but a woman needs more. But it was my fault, too, because he was sincere — sincere in a sense. When I think of his vows, it hurts. No, I must forget.

August 25

I’ve been at home for ten days. The workmen are putting insulation in my room, so I’m practically without a place to live, which makes me nervous. But that’s not the worst of it. I have other problems. God in Heaven help me. I hope next week will bring a little relief. On Wednesday (the 21st) I received another postcard from Egon. I didn’t answer it, since he has not answered my letter. Perhaps he lost interest, not obtaining what he wanted. But that’s unimportant now. My conscience tells me he’s not the right man for me. Inconstant. It’s true that I am drawn to cheerful dispositions, but Egon is not sensitive enough for me. Disagreements would be inevitable. I must be sensible. But it’s all in God’s hands. I must be brave, I must go on. And where is Kleinchen now?