Monday, 22 October 1883
I have four or five years left to live. It vexes me, because when I am dead there will be people who will say — especially that Cassagnac, who already believes I am not marrying because he left a deep impression on me. And Mme Presseq!... That Cassagnac about whom I care as much as about last year's gloves. If it were true, if I were "struck by love," and if I were dying of it, I would let him know — but since it is not so, and people may think it is, that is infuriating. It is true that I could not care less about Cassagnac. Good riddance! I would so like my consumption to be imaginary. It seems there was a time when it was fashionable to be consumptive, and everyone strained to appear so and believed themselves to be so. Ah! if only it could be imagination alone! I want to live, all the same and in spite of everything. I have no heartaches; I have no obsessions, no sentimentality, nothing... I want to be celebrated and to enjoy what is good in this world... It is so simple...J'en ai pour quatre ou cinq ans à vivre. Ça m'ennuie parce que quand je serai morte il y aura des gens qui diront que, surtout ce Cassagnac qui croit déjà que je ne me marie pas parce qu'il m'a laissé une profonde impression. Et la Mme Presseq !... Ce Cassagnac dont je me soucie comme d'une paire de gants de l'année dernière. Si c'était vrai et si j'étais "*atteinte* par l'amour" et si j'en mourais je le lui ferais savoir mais puisque ce n'est pas et qu'on peut le penser, c'est enrageant.