I'm not sure about what weight to lend to sentimentality. Because, I swear, sometimes life feels so beautiful and weighty that I just want to cling to it and never let go and sink to the bottom and be eaten by whatever strange fishes gnash at my frail body. And that makes little to no sense. To acheive the ideal of pure untarnished reason is to miss out on the intrinsic gift. To love without being captive to love, to hate without being destructive or destroyed, to reserve exaltation for that which deserves to be exalted, is the only way I can choose to live.

I love you dearly, all the shards of glass that I see between the cracks of every broken mirror. I hope you can see that too. My heart is breaking.