Blick in die Ferne Looking Away

?Alone I nourish my wounds

always with new grudges

Painful memories of lost happiness

Who can bring back that sweet time

bring back the good old days

——Goethe "Broken Love"

No one knows how that moment happened.

The room was pitch black.

The low panting, the billowing hot air, lingering and lingering.

It was such a long, deep and intense kiss, I could feel the trembling of Schiller's hands holding my cheeks, the warmth between his lips and the wet touch of the tip of his tongue.

Pulling away a little distance, Schillers breathed on the tip of his nose, and his lips gently covered, calling vaguely: "Love me, Goethe, love me."

What should I do, what can I do, my reason seems to have disappeared, and I can't get the slightest response from it.

Maybe...that's just right.

I left Venice before dawn, because I knew that if I saw Schiller's sad expression again, I might give up all persistence.

So I'm leaving.

Looking at the rapidly receding scenery outside the window, Schiller's handsome face appeared in my mind. I tried my best to suppress this longing, this deep unwillingness and loneliness, but it was ineffective.

When Schiller wakes up and sees that there is no one around him, and his former lover has left him, what will happen to him, will he be sad, will he shed tears for us?

I raised my hand and made a movement of wiping my tears in the cold air.

So, will he forget me?

Feeling lonely in my heart.

I admit, I'm so conflicted.On the one hand, I want Schiller to forget me completely, but on the other hand, I don't want him to.

The carriage is still moving forward, following this tree-lined path, it will reach the end of the road.I knew what was waiting for me there, in that city called Weimar.

Flowers, wine, countless delicacies, a grand wedding.

When the carriage stopped, I would take the hand of a woman whom I had only met a few times, whom I knew nothing but name and family, and spend the rest of my life with her.

Ridiculous, more pathetic.

But as long as Schiller is okay, it's a worthwhile trade for me.

Time flies, and time flies like an arrow.

How many years have passed since then, after that parting in Venice.I've lost count, and every day after that felt like years to me.

More than once I have laughed at the sentimental time-passing poems written by so-called writers.Time is going to pass, let it pass, any sadness is just in vain.But now, I really hope that I can have this kind of power, that I can go back in time, and then stand there forever.

Schiele also returned to Weimar shortly after that.He missed the fake wedding, where everyone was so fake, so phony, including me, including Christine.

She later told me that she didn't love me, and that she married me because of some external force.I suddenly felt that fate was so absurd and ridiculous. Two unrelated people formed this unfortunate marriage under the duke's means.We have never been in the same room, because we both know that each other has our own insistence.

How long has it been like this, and Schiller and I dare not look at each other too closely, and dare not make intimate contact, because that will only rekindle the remaining sparks in each other's hearts.The usual hugs and kisses between lovers have long become an unattainable luxury for us.We can only grab each other's deep miss of ourselves from the occasional overlapping sight.

My only consolation is that the duke kept his word and he didn't hurt Schiller.Schiller's talents were brought into full play in Weimar, and he made great progress. When I was promoted to head of the Privy Council of the Duchy of Weimar, he also formally succeeded me in charge of the Weimar Theater.

Occasionally, we also discuss repertoire and literature, as we have done before, but only there.The past is hard to reproduce.

In the eyes of others, we are comrades-in-arms in the literary world and confidants in life. They think that we are like-minded and talk about everything.Indeed, they can't see the longing and unwillingness in our eyes, and they don't know the ridiculous and sad fate that stands between us.

We are friends on the surface and lovers in the past tense.

Today, I have put more energy into the construction of the Royal Park, and have gradually moved away from the affairs of the theater, but all kinds of news about the theater still reach my ears through various channels.

When I heard the news that Schiele had passed out in the theater brought by Christine, my anxiety told me that something seemed to happen.

"Do you want me to accompany you to visit Schiller?" Christine seemed to see the worry in my eyes, "Aren't you good friends?" She deliberately emphasized the word "friend".

Although I was surprised, I didn't have time to think about it.After hearing the news that Schiller had passed out, I no longer had any mood to stay at the construction site.I nodded and went to Schiller's mansion with Christine.

Schiller was lying on the white bed, not yet awake.His face was pale, and sweat was streaming down his forehead. A young woman in plain clothes was sitting on Schiller's bedside, gently wiping his sweat.When she saw us coming in, she stood up hastily and saluted Tignes and me.

"Hi." We saluted politely.

The woman smiled apologetically at us, picked up the basin and was about to leave.

"Ah, wait a minute." Tignes stopped her suddenly.

The woman looked at Tignes puzzled, and asked in a low voice, "Madam, is there anything else?"

Christine smiled at me meaningfully, "The conversation between men should not be interrupted by women. So..." She pulled the woman up, "I'd better help you."

The woman was a little embarrassed, "Really... Really, there is no need. Madam, you just..."

"You don't need to be polite to me." Christine pushed the woman and left Schiller's bedroom without looking back. The faint conversation between the two gradually disappeared in the corridor.

The room suddenly became quiet, only the chirping of birds slipped into the room through the gap in the window.

Schiller was still asleep, the sunlight reflecting off his skin a pale gold.I quickly averted my eyes and forced myself to focus on the decorations in the room.

This is not my first visit to Schiller's house, but everything here is both familiar and strange to me at the moment.It's been a long time since Venice broke up.Schiller has apparently turned it into an office, and the wall next to his bed is covered with clippings of recent work schedules and reviews at the Weimar Theatre.

Is that what wears down Schiller?

Drama... the theater he loves...

I couldn't help but sighed.

"Why, sigh?" Schiller's muffled voice suddenly sounded.

"I..." Seeing Schiller's gaze, I was suddenly at a loss and wanted to say something, but the words froze on my lips and I couldn't confide.I hesitated for a long time, and in the end I just murmured: "You're awake."

"I woke up as soon as you entered the door, but I didn't open my eyes." Schiller paused, his voice drifting, "It's like that night, I heard the sound of you leaving, but I still pretended it didn't happen."

His chest suddenly seemed to be tightly bound by something, "You... are still..."

Schiller coughed violently before he could answer. He weakly grasped the shirt on his chest with his hands. The neckline of the shirt was already soaked with sweat.I was just about to step forward to help him, but he waved his hand and pointed to the chair next to him, motioning for me to sit opposite him.

Seeing him in pain made me feel uncomfortable, so I obediently listened to what he said, and sat a few feet away from him.

"What's wrong with you?" I frowned. "I asked Christine, but she wouldn't tell me."

"Hehe." Schiller laughed softly. He looked away and stared at the quilt with his head down. "It's nothing serious. Wind chill, fatigue, that's all."

"Thank you for still thinking about me." He turned his head away.

My brows twitched involuntarily, "You think... of course I miss you, after all, it is..." But the words came to an abrupt end, and I snorted self-deprecatingly, and then said, "We are friends Well."

The room was quiet again.

Schiller looked at me quietly. After a while, he suddenly shrugged and smiled.

A smile that is enough to make people heartache to death.

Helpless, pale, hopeless.

"Yes, we are...friends." He murmured, then looked at me with a smile, and asked, "Are you still writing Faust?"

I nodded.

"why?"

"Because that's an agreement."

"A promise...?" He laughed again, weakly and weakly, "Goethe, why do you always influence my decision at critical moments?"

I reflected on Schiller's words and looked at him blankly.

Schiller stared up at the ceiling, and suddenly laughed, "I won't let you succeed," he pointed to himself, "I'm getting married."

I jumped up from the chair like an electric shock, but immediately realized my recklessness.I tried my best to suppress the sadness that was on the verge of breaking out, and said awkwardly: "Congratulations. You are finally not alone."

"Yeah." Schiller closed his eyes, enjoying the sunshine, "One cannot...always be alone. Especially, after knowing that what you are waiting for will never be yours."

"Really..." I responded with a sense of loss, and closed my eyes fiercely.

Not long after, Tignes returned with the young woman from just now.Seeing that Schiller woke up, the young woman immediately showed joy, put the basin aside, and said angrily, "Don't get up again, don't catch a cold before your body recovers." Then she began to stuff Schiller's hands Back to the quilt.Schiller also looked at her quietly with a smile on his face.

Between them, such a fit, it seems that no one can intervene between them.And I exist like air, they don't see me, only... each other...?The thoughts in my heart seemed to explode, and they were so chaotic that I could hardly breathe.

Depress, depress, depress.I just wish I could get out of this place as soon as possible and calm myself down.

Tignes reached out and tugged at the corner of my clothes. I turned around in surprise and saw her politely bid farewell to the young woman: "It's getting late, so let's not bother you. I'm sorry." She smiled softly He took my arm.I reacted and saluted the host politely, thanking Tignes for his actions.

"Oh, are you going back? How long has it been..." The young woman looked at us in surprise, and then said regretfully, "I wanted to stay with Mr. Goethe and Mrs. Goethe for dinner."

"We appreciate your kindness," Tignes replied for me.She gently took the young woman's hand and said politely, "Take care of Schiller, we'll go first."

The young woman still looked at us regretfully, and bowed sideways, "Goodbye, sir and madam."

Leaving Schiller's house, we drove home together in the carriage.I sat face to face with Tignes in the carriage, we were speechless, we could only hear the rumble of the wheels.

Tignes leaned against the carriage wall, leaning on the window lattice with her elbows, her eyes fixed on the moving scenery outside the window.

"I know..." She still looked out of the window, but stopped after speaking halfway.

"Know what." I responded casually.

She turned her eyes to look at me, but her body still maintained the posture just now, "You must be feeling very uncomfortable now."

I was silent and did not answer.

She smiled softly, put her chin in her hands, and stared straight at me with her head tilted.Her piercing gaze seemed to pierce me, making me uncomfortable.

I anxiously waited for her next words.

"Schiller is getting married," Tignes said quietly. "I think you know."

I snorted lowly, trying to put on an indifferent tone, but the sound sounded like a sigh.

"Actually, I've already thought of a hundred words to comfort you, but..." She looked at me, but didn't continue.

I remained silent and did not answer.Perhaps to be precise, I didn't know how to answer, so I still looked at her and waited for her to finish speaking.

We stared at each other, but neither spoke.Sitting in the carriage like this, the noise from the wheels outside the window lingered in my ears.

"You don't need to be so contradictory, Goethe." Tignes finally said, "You can't catch it like this and you can't let it go."

"You..." I was amazed that she broke my mind in one sentence.Indeed, there are only two words to describe my mood now, and that is contradiction.Want to let go, but can't let go, want to cut off, but never cut off.I was tormented and afraid of being found contradictory.

"What are you talking about..." I was still trying to make the last excuse, "Schiller is my good friend, and of course I sincerely wish him the best of luck when he gets married."

"Goethe," interrupted Tignes, "you clearly understand that I did not mean that at all."

"Then what exactly do you mean?" A cluster of flames sprang up inexplicably in my heart, burning my rational defense line, and the sadness in my heart also took advantage of this opportunity to burst down the embankment, "Well, you know, If you know it, you know it!" I turned my head and looked out the window, trying to keep calm in front of a lady, after all, yelling at the top of my lungs is not what a gentleman should look like.

Tignes looked at me quietly, waiting for my next words.

"Yes, you are right," I took a deep breath, this is the first time in so many years that I want to pour out this long-sealed feeling to others.Maybe it’s because the things I’ve been carrying are too heavy, but after I made up my mind, my heart was filled with a sudden sense of relief and relief, “I, in order to face the secular mask—do everything possible to hide the relationship between me and Schiller. You will not understand this kind of contradictory feeling, and you neither want to lose nor have it.” I shook my head, “Our communication can only be limited to literature and work, and we must be careful not to cross every word. One step away from Lei Chi. Therefore, calling his name every time becomes a kind of torment..."

"After so many years, you must have lost a lot. So do you regret it?" Tignes asked softly.

"No. Although it is painful, I don't regret it. I just feel helpless and regretful about our fate. Because Schiller's happiness is everything." I replied.

"But apparently Schiller wasn't happy either."

"One day he will be happy, as long as he forgets me."

Tignes smiled softly, "Goethe, sometimes I feel that you are very similar to me back then. Then... I can't see it."

"Can't see it?" I was stunned, obviously I had given up everything.

"Do you know why I want to marry you?"

"Why...what?" Indeed, I have always wanted to ask this question, but I don't want to pry into other people's privacy.

"Because," she paused, "my brother likes you, so I married you to separate you from Schiller. Therefore," Tignes' eyes were wet, and her voice was slightly choked, "I caused all your pain .”

"How could it be..." Such an unbelievable fact made me feel at a loss for a while, but thinking that Tignes' marriage to me was also her misfortune, I asked again, "Why?"

Tignes wiped the tears from his eyes, "Because I love my brother, I want him to be happy."

"You..." I froze for a moment, then embraced Tignes and let her lean on my shoulder, "It turns out that we are all trapped in feelings that are not accepted by the world."

"Does the Duke know?"

"He doesn't know. It's my wishful thinking."

"But can you really make him happy by doing this?" I sighed.

Tignes pushed me away and looked straight at me, "Goethe, that's what I want to ask you too."

I was stunned. Indeed, I never thought about this question. I only thought about how to give Schiller happiness, but never thought about whether he would do what I expected.

"So, all these years... I have done wrong?" My voice trembled uncontrollably, and I looked at Tignes blankly.

"You can fix it," said Tignes. "Take Schiller."

"Go? Where are you going?" I didn't understand.

Tignes sat back on the seat opposite, lowered his head and thought, "It's been so many years, my brother has withdrawn most of your surveillance. And now that Schiller is sick, no one would think that you will be here at this time." Leave. So, Goethe," Tignes raised his head, as if thinking of something, "you and Schiller will leave Weimar together while the Christmas Eve event will be held in the near future! Then my brother can no longer control you! "

"Leave... Weimar." Having lived in Weimar for more than ten years, I suddenly felt a little sad when I mentioned leaving, but I couldn't help but admire Tigne. This is indeed a good idea, "If Schiller agrees, I will take him. Let's go back to Frankfurt together, I still have a home there."

Tignes said: "Frankfurt... Yes, yes, but you are the Minister of Advisors, if you disappear in the middle of the event, it will be very noticeable. Well," she thought for a while, "You wait until the event is almost over before leaving, and then go down the mountain The trail crosses the Weimar border, so it should not be discovered, and the trail down the mountain will hardly encounter royal patrols."

"But," I was still a little apprehensive, "will Schiller come with me?"

"He will," said Tignes confidently, "if he loves you."