“My God, I can’t stand this! I can’t let you go out every day, fearing every minute that something might happen to you, knowing that every ounce of sanity I’ve got left is hinged on your well-being. I can’t feel this way . . . it’s too strong . . . oh, hell. I’ll turn into a raving lunatic. I’ll never be of use to anyone again. If I could just reduce it somehow . . . love you only half this much . . . I might be able to live with it.”
