Yet Again, I Find Myself Falling Without Control

I am often perplexed as how the pain of memory and the exhilaration of experience often do not cancel each other out for me. How my past does not interfere with my present as much as I expect that it would. And yet, it feels like history repeating.
 
 
Why, O gods why, does he remind me so much of my lost Pierre?
 
 
Is it his fair hair? Is it his tender, often shy demeanor? Is it the exuberance and excitement he gets what he talks about what he loves most? It is as though everywhere I turn in this city, I am hurtling forward into relationships, intimacies, and affections at an alarming rate. A sloping cliff carved from my own passions, a web of relationships that could entangle me and give Mother and the Duchess an upper hand over me. And yet...
 
And yet I find that I cannot stop these surging emotions, these overwhelming desires. I cannot stop these countless, wonderful people from entering my life and changing it forever.
 
Nor should I. I know this on a factual level, that this is a good thing for me to have these relationships, to have this happiness in my life in spite of--in defiance of--the danger that looms over me like an executioner's axe.
 
 
I think I'll keep this short this time. Too much to think about, not enough energy to write it all down.