I was talking... ranting, really... to sibylla recently, and the topic was love. Specifically, why love had to have a shelf life; how I could feel almost nothing for someone whom, I am quite sure, I loved truly and deeply and sincerely and all that. "How can I ever trust love again? How can love be real if it's.... finite?" I wailed.
To which she snapped back, "Life is finite. That doesn't make it any less real."
Wow. That rocked me the fuck back on my heels. Hoping it helps.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2005-03-12 04:08 pm (UTC)To which she snapped back, "Life is finite. That doesn't make it any less real."
Wow. That rocked me the fuck back on my heels. Hoping it helps.