Last week, I posted a link to a column by Tina Brown that was almost pornographic in its adulation of our erstwhile perjurer-in-chief. This week, from the New York Times comes this little ditty from screenwriter Nora Ephron titled After the Love Is Gone. Here is an excerpt:
I broke up with Bill a long time ago. It’s always hard to remember love – years pass and you say to yourself, was I really in love or was I just kidding myself? Was I really in love or was I just pretending he was the man of my dreams? Was I really in love or was I just desperate? But when it came to Bill, I’m pretty sure it was the real deal. I loved the guy.
As for Bill, I have to be honest: he did not love me. In fact, I never even crossed his mind. Not once. But in the beginning that didn’t stop me. I loved him, I believed in him, and I didn’t even think he was a liar. Of course, I knew he’d lied about his thing with Gennifer, but at the time I believed that lies of that sort didn’t count. How stupid was that?
The whole thing is way more honest an assessment of you-know-who than Brown’s, obviously, but no less sickening in its delusional nostalgia.