Monday, October 18, 2004
He was young and so he wrote, 'If she is as I am, if she is as I suspect, if we are meant to be, if... then she will understand. She will understand that this is all that matters in this world. Only this one thing. All else is out of reach or but a passing fancy. She will understand that this chance of love is something so rare and sacred that it must be be pursued. Because nothing else can be certain. When the fires blare and the concrete crumbles and all around is rubble, this will be that which carries on. Love! It must be risked; its means are worth any end.'
He is old and looks at this and cries. And still he doesn't know.
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