And we sit and watch the Simpsons. At seven in the evening. We do it like a game, but we both know perfectly well that with each passing day our situation increasingly resembles that of a married couple. What a married couple if not a system of complicity? Ultimately it is only this. Everything else can be there or not: love, children, sex acceptable or bad, the routine, daily routines, confidence and mutual distrust, jealousy, memories, confessions about life above all, the secrets that will never be revealed, cook something together, a beer, a glass of wine, watch the golden light of sunset. They are small, unimportant details, perhaps.
But, gradually, between the two sets in a system of complicity. Everything, even watch the sunset together, is part of this system. And without realizing it, or that there are less than half the official documents, it slips into gear marriage. I know what I say. It happened on other occasions.
(PJG)
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