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“Smile and the world smiles with you,”
But sometimes I worried that marriage was just a series of these small deflations, our dreams floating around invisibly near the ceiling like escaped gas.
carnations and mums last forever.
I just want this. Not even the sex exactly, but the being wanted. The oblivion of it.
It’s the anticipation I can’t handle. Loss lurks around every corner, and how do we prepare?
“Maybe you turn into a kind of free-floating consciousness that surrounds the people you love so that you’re kind of there with them still and the air they breathe is somehow made out of you.”
Everyone dies, and yet it’s unendurable. There is so much love inside of us. How do we become worthy of it? And, then, where does it go? A worldwide crescendo of grief, sustained day after day, and only one tiny note of it is mine.
Is it better to have loved and lost? Ask anyone in pain and they’ll tell you no. And yet. Here we are, hurling ourselves headlong into love like lemmings off a cliff into a churning sea of grief. We risk every last thing for our heart’s expansion, even when that expanded heart threatens to suffocate us and then burst.