Samara

This is so so sad.

Lara has allowed herself to drift away. The adhortations from her doctor, her husband and sundry friends, including Elisabetta, seem to have taken away the last hurdles. She feels free and unhindered to pursue her ultimate destiny, one that everyone assures her is inevitable. She knows it, too. In fact, she has known it since doomsday 19 April. "You're going to lose me", she told me then, quick on the draw as usual.

But people don't die on command. She may have to stay adrift for quite a while longer, marooned on a raft after a shipwreck. The Antwerp professor, the other day, predicted a few days to a few weeks for her demise. Well, a few days we've already had; how long is actually a few weeks? And will she be aware the whole time - some of the time? Out soon?

Already, Lara realises her loss of strength. For over a week now, she has started out every day stating she feels weaker than the day before. No surprise there, with her blood values. For someone with a penchant for fitness, with an agile and athletic physique, being overtaken by her body must be the ultimate onslaught on her person. This is why she forces herself, no matter what the cost, to join me at the table for every meal; why she insists on putting on proper attire during the daytime instead of staying in nightwear all day long. She wants to stay in control, retain a modicum of normalcy.

Control will rapidly be coming to an end, though. She'll be bedridden, unable to stand on her own legs any longer; totally dependent on a string of caretakers and her dumb husband. Her existence will be more and more vegetative, devoid of activity, including the use of her wits. Yet steering herself deliberately into that phase, may not expedite the early demise she wishes for. Her body can hold out longer with minimal activity, than when inhabited by someone who refuses to die no matter what, and kicks and screams. The lower her self-assertion, the longer it may take her actually to cross the threshold. Ironically, the harder she seeks death, the later death may seek her. We all have our meet with destiny, whether in Isfahan or Samara. Can't rush it.

I am beyond sadness for the moment. There are no tears for the time being. I am in the thick of desperation. Why? I am impotent keeping Lara alive, and equally impotent letting her die, which is what she wants. I am caught.

This is a bizarre reversal of roles. Here lies the love of my life, the woman I have been positively smitten with for twenty years, my soul mate. And what I want for her is to die serenely, peacefully, painlessly - and above all, soon. And the reason I would like to see her die, is that I cannot possibly keep her alive.

If she saw a point to this all - in other words, if she saw cause - she would be the last man standing; I mean she would fight mean and vicious. And that's the thing: she doesn't see the point; there is no cause. That is why she has given up. Not worth the effort if I am to meet my destiny anyway.