I Love You, We Said

I Love You, We Said I Love You, We Said I Love You, We Said I Love You, We Said

The moving confessional account of an outsider struggling to come to terms with writing, love & life itself as contact sports

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synopsis

After a disastrous year at work and some very bad thoughts, young writer Ben Human does what anyone would: downs an emergency bottle of red, leaves behind his beloved Karoo, and follows his girlfriend of two months to England, where he plans to stay alive, in love and employed long enough to write one unforgettable book.

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This fantastic woman, wearing an olive-green revolutionary T-shirt, her skin sun-baked and fine and grassy, her hair braided or in dreadlocks or pretty, artful Afro – I wanted to press my face into her shadowy evocations of art oils, savannah, aerated cotton, sun and limber sexuality...

Coming from the north, we came through spectral black mountains to the ancient valley. It lay inert with the violence of its own creation, a theatre of faulted bedrock with a mountain range on either side, reaching back and up ahead as far as I could see.

Drunk on Anglophilia I went inside as if on a stream of magic, wishing with my whole heart I’d been a part of it like so many before me, feeling a great sorrow for an unlived life in my chest, like a physical ache.

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