I read this today: “To love is to take one side of the argument and hold it fast unto death.  To land on one side with both feet.”  I had the choice, to love you, to not.  To allow you to love me.  To not.  I chose to love, and be loved, in the strange manner of this place, a place of high canyon walls and deep, narrow flow.  So I must plant both feet and have it, even if my feet are in the fire and the current returns me to the vast and lonely sea. 

 

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