All This Could Be Different

by Sarah Thankam Mathews

I am trying, late in the evening, to say something about love, which for many of us is not separable from the other shit.

I knew how beautiful I was in that moment, felt it burned into me, a brand. This is how I felt: alone and powerful. This is what I felt: the shock of how your life’s longing can sometimes be smoothly realized, without great strain or cost, easy as buying a clock.

Because good love can rescue a person. Pull them out of the waves. Bad love is a rip current. It can drown you.