My Darling Dreadful Thing

by Johanna van Veen

What I felt for Agnes was right and true, yes, but it was not selfless. Perhaps love never is.

“Knowing is cold, I suppose,” she said. “Cold and distant. You know things with your mind. Understanding is different. It’s warm. You understand things with your mind, yes, but also with your heart.”

Once people believe you’re mad, anything you do will convince them more.

But all this love, all this yearning, it has to mean something.