"I should so like to see her again," I exclaimed. "Don't worry, one always sees people again," replied Albertine. In this particular instance she was wrong; I never saw again, and never identified, the handsome girl with the cigarette. We shall see, moreover, why for a long time I ceased to look for her. But I never forgot her. I find myself at times, when I think of her, seized by a wild longing. But these recurrences of desire oblige us to reflect that if we wish ti rediscover these girls with the same pleasure we must also return to the year which has since been followed by ten others in the course of which her bloom has faded. We can sometimes find a person again, but we cannot abolish time.
Marcel Proust, Cities of the Plain, pp. 912-913
Continuing his reflection on the beautiful woman whom he briefly met in a train car, and who he never saw again. Even though he only talked to her for a few moments, he informs us, "But I never forgot her." I suppose I shouldn't admit that I probably remember every beautiful woman I ever met, especially since I increasingly can't remember where I parked my car half the time. Emotion stamps are memories, but why should a fleeting association spark such memories? My theory would be that it makes us feel alive and reminds us that there is always a chance to live, at least up to a certain point. Proust adds, a tad forlornly, "We can sometimes find a person again, but we cannot abolish time." In my 50s I've fallen in love twice, so I guess I haven't reached the point where time has won, although I suspect it will soon enough. I suppose that when you stop thinking that you might stumble across another great love you're either securely in love or you've surrendered to age.
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