Loving someone completely and being loved back the same way is the most awesome and terrifying thing in the world-not awesome in the colloquial sense, but in the literal sense.
No hyperbole in my use of terrifying, either. (This is rare, my lack of hyperbole.)
Do you ever get used to this? Is getting used to it something to which I should even aspire? I don’t think so. [Rambling this morning… no more sugar right before bed. It sends my brain into some kind of neurotic frenzy.]
How does someone who doesn’t believe in anything reconcile with the fact that she believes in something? How do I not hate myself for being gullible and small when everything about this tells me that believing makes me neither of those things?
Beloved is no help in these conversations. He simply says, You just know. I just know. It’s the way it is, the way we’re supposed to be; it’s who we are.
That does not satisfy the logical part of my brain, thank you very much, subtle genius.
He is usually even more bound by logic than I am-it makes our occasional arguments that much more frustrating-but in this case, he claims faith like we’re religion. Are we?