Why I did not respond to your last responses and stories, Ingrid: somehow the Medium lay out confuses me so much I am not able to find stories; if I found one, the buttons do not work; I can easily find drafts in my profile but not my own already written and publicized stories; after searching with ‘Ingrid Jakob’ I get a list of ten Ingrids, but not you; do I finally find your contributions? The response buttons have vanished.

Whatever, here I am for a very short response to your remarks on soul mates and Frisch. I am sure I do not have the vocabulary and the subtlety of expression, necessary to make clear I feel for you, that I understand what it has done to you to loose him, not to be able to help or cure him. It is like having to feel a beloved one drown while you try to save him. He is in your arms, but glides away.

I did not have the intention to comment on your personal history, i.e. meeting that one unique person, living the perfect life with him and loosing him after a struggle to help him, cope with his mental illness. I was naïvely frolicking around with the subject. Forgive me.

I loved reading Frisch, most of all Gantenbein (in Dutch ‘Ontwerpen voor een ik’- ‘Entwürfe für ein Ich’) and Tagebuch 1970–71. He never annoyed me, but I am not a very intelligent reader. I am afraid I read to be happy, was an incurable romantic, hoping for a happy ending. I still am, part of me is an adolescent. Life has learned me enough though, to ask for more depth in books, poetry and relations with people. I prefer riddles and unanswered questions, and the European endings, in doubt about the ending. We are not able to understand ourselves and the other is an enigma. In novels I want to meet complex human beings, not one-dimensional ones.

There is more to say, but we are traveling and have a time schedule, breakfast is waiting.

And, oh yes, you are right. I have two accounts. Mistakenly. Incomprehensibly. Stupidly. Forget the mini-Chris, although he fits me more. From now on I will try to be Capital Chris.