Life wrote a few stories about Dolly, that she did not write herself.
When Dolly passed fifty, found her: this is not my life anymore, that I wrote for myself,
that i live, how strange.
But what was the story anyway?, that Dolly had experienced, during all the years between
Thirty and forty, in which Dolly's life imposed the tale of a strange abstinence??!
It became more and more obvious, that nothing happened in Dolly's life. Who knows, maybe that's what the stories were about, that Dollsy was trying to write, about himself, mainly, so cocky, and, almost boastful.
At forty-three, Dolly found a man, who took part in the woman's life,
almost as if he were drinking from her. Conversely, however, he perhaps did not allow this sympathy, who knows.
A story emerged from this connection, which, in hindsight, requires a great deal of caution and prudence.
When the man left Dolly, he said, among other things, annoyedly impatient: “you are too strong for me”
Which made Dolly think about it for a long time, what he might have meant by that.
“Didn't he just want to say?, that I'm too fat for him?”, she wondered, every time, when she saw herself in the mirror.
There have been different interpretations of strength: Strength could be hollow or thick, complex and challenging, but also
be shocking and overwhelming ….
what was meant, when a man left a woman with the words, she is too strong for him?
Was there a woman too strong for a man?
There seemed to be no man too strong for a woman, Dolly thought wrinkled.
It felt like breaking.