Jul 14, 2023
Sometimes I wonder how hard love is, how deeply is supposed to be felt for people to be afraid of it. I sometimes think that I would rather share the inevitable sore of finding actual love than live a life without knowing its tenderness. I sometimes expect that falling in love is what will happen next, in a way that I could stop the throb in my core that is pretending that I know what loving means.
But, every so often I recall the love that I can identify, the one witnessed in tactile realness: an intermittent spasm between benevolent human affection, kind yet unsympathetic. And the one behold in earthly fiction: a otherworldly vulnerability except when it is lacerating terrestrial.
