That's how I felt as I read through your posts tonight. This realization that we're all sharing something so intimately. Heartbreak, humor, hope, fun, angst, love, and so much more. I am grateful for all of you, and feeling all kinds of mushy about it just now. Something is happening here that I never foresaw or planned, something amazing blooming out of my fumbling around on a blog so many years ago.
I'm featuring Karen from Milk Spills this week. Beautiful, insightful, and perfectly translated.
When he was without need of her, the conversations were fraught with debate, sides taken, not taken – all little trails in their chatter that led to nowhere in particular. She did not have the curiosity for it any longer; their mutual intellectual exploration had turned into a power play – a chance for her to be proven wrong. She resisted swallowing that, knowing it would destroy her. And when he was raw with pain, having peeled away the tough outer layers of thought, she knew his need would consume her. Only the love between them could create such a chasm.