What is love? It’s like a mystic’s attempt to define faith that I remember reading somewhere: It’s not this, it’s not that. It’s like this, but it’s not this. It’s like that, but it’s not that. But it’s not true that nothing’s changed. Not that I’d use words like healing or recovery or closure, but I am aware of something different. Something that feels like a preparation, maybe. Not there yet but on the verge of some release. A letting go.
