The Decay of the Angel - Yukio Mishima

promise?
No, I doubt that they have made any real
calculations at all. They take the crudest, most
common-sense view of relations between man and
woman. To judge from their gasps of admiration when
they heard my I.Q., I should imagine that all their
energies go into the study of talent, and especially
talent with money.
Momoko telephoned from Karuizawa the day I got
back from Hokkaido. She wanted to see me and so I
must come to Karuizawa. I have no doubt that her
parents were behind it. There was just a touch of
artificiality in her voice, and so I made bold to be
cruel. I replied that since I was deep in studies for my
university entrance examinations I was unable to
accept her kind invitation. And when I hung up I felt a
quite unexpected twinge of sadness. Denial is itself a
sort of concession, and it is natural that the
concession should bring a shadow of sadness over
one’s self-respect. I am not afraid of it.
Summer is almost over. I am very much aware of its
passage. As strongly as words can express. There
were mackerel clouds and cumulus clouds in the sky
today, and a faint touch of sharpness in the air.
Love should follow along, but my emotions must not
follow anything.