paint-brush
I find myself lonely—oh, so lonely! by@dostoyevsky

I find myself lonely—oh, so lonely!

by Fyodor Dostoyevsky4mMay 16th, 2023
Read on Terminal Reader
Read this story w/o Javascript
tldt arrow

Too Long; Didn't Read

MY DEAREST MAKAR ALEXIEVITCH—Thedora tells me that, should I wish, there are some people who will be glad to help me by obtaining me an excellent post as governess in a certain house. What think you, my friend? Shall I go or not? Of course, I should then cease to be a burden to you, and the post appears to be a comfortable one. On the other hand, the idea of entering a strange house appals me. The people in it are landed gentry, and they will begin to ask me questions, and to busy themselves about me. What answers shall I then return? You see, I am now so unused to society—so shy! I like to live in a corner to which I have long grown used. Yes, the place with which one is familiar is always the best. Even if for companion one has but sorrow, that place will still be the best.... God alone knows what duties the post will entail. Perhaps I shall merely be required to act as nursemaid; and in any case, I hear that the governess there has been changed three times in two years. For God’s sake, Makar Alexievitch, advise me whether to go or not. Why do you never come near me now? Do let my eyes have an occasional sight of you. Mass on Sundays is almost the only time when we see one another. How retiring you have become! So also have I, even though, in a way, I am your kinswoman. You must have ceased to love me, Makar Alexievitch. I spend many a weary hour because of it. Sometimes, when dusk is falling, I find myself lonely—oh, so lonely! Thedora has gone out somewhere, and I sit here and think, and think, and think. I remember all the past, its joys and its sorrows. It passes before my eyes in detail, it glimmers at me as out of a mist; and as it does so, well-known faces appear, which seem actually to be present with me in this room! Most frequently of all, I see my mother. Ah, the dreams that come to me! I feel that my health is breaking, so weak am I. When this morning I arose, sickness took me until I vomited and vomited. Yes, I feel, I know, that death is approaching. Who will bury me when it has come? Who will visit my tomb? Who will sorrow for me? And now it is in a strange place, in the house of a stranger, that I may have to die! Yes, in a corner which I do not know!... My God, how sad a thing is life!... Why do you send me comfits to eat? Whence do you get the money to buy them? Ah, for God’s sake keep the money, keep the money. Thedora has sold a carpet which I have made. She got fifty roubles for it, which is very good—I had expected less. Of the fifty roubles I shall give Thedora three, and with the remainder make myself a plain, warm dress. Also, I am going to make you a waistcoat—to make it myself, and out of good material.
featured image - I find myself lonely—oh, so lonely!
Fyodor Dostoyevsky HackerNoon profile picture
Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Fyodor Dostoyevsky

@dostoyevsky

A Russian novelist, short story writer, essayist, and journalist.

Learn More
LEARN MORE ABOUT @DOSTOYEVSKY'S
EXPERTISE AND PLACE ON THE INTERNET.
L O A D I N G
. . . comments & more!

About Author

Fyodor Dostoyevsky HackerNoon profile picture
Fyodor Dostoyevsky@dostoyevsky
A Russian novelist, short story writer, essayist, and journalist.

TOPICS

THIS ARTICLE WAS FEATURED IN...

Permanent on Arweave
Read on Terminal Reader
Read this story in a terminal
 Terminal
Read this story w/o Javascript
Read this story w/o Javascript
 Lite