florence22riche

“Remember how you asked me where I like to live best, the country or the city?”
                “And you said...”
                “And I said I wanted to live in the country and in the city both?”
                Buddy nodded.
                “And you,” I continued with a sudden force, “laughed and said I had the perfect setup of a true neurotic and that that question came from some questionnaire you’d had in psychology class that week?”
                Buddy’s smile dimmed.
                “Well, you were right. I am neurotic. I could never settle down in either the country or the city.”
                “You could live between them,” Buddy suggested helpfully. “Then you could go to the city sometimes and to the country sometimes.”
                “Well, what’s so neurotic about that?”
                Buddy didn’t answer.
                “Well?” I rapped out, thinking, You can’t coddle these sick people, it’s the worst thing for them, it’ll spoil them to bits.
                “Nothing,” Buddy said in a pale, still voice.
                “Neurotic, ha!” I let out a scornful laugh. “If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I’m neurotic as hell. I’ll be flying back and forth between one mutually exclusive thing and another for the rest of my days.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar