Chapter 29: August

⁠​​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌⁠Unhappy being that I am! Why do I thus deceive myself? What is to come of all this wild, aimless, endless passion? I cannot pray except to her. My imagination sees nothing but her: all surrounding objects are of no account, except as they relate to her. In this dreamy state I enjoy many happy hours, till at length I feel compelled to tear myself away from her. Ah, Wilhelm, to what does not my hear