I ask you about love, you’d probably quote me a sonnet. But you’ve never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable— known someone that could level you with her eyes. Feeling like God put an angel on Earth just for you. That could rescue you from the depths of hell. And you wouldn’t know what it’s like to be her angel. To have that love for her, be there for forever. Through anything, through cancer. And you wouldn’t know about sleeping sitting up in a hospital room for two months holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes that the term ‘visiting hours’ don’t apply to you. You don’t know about real loss, because that only occurs when you love something more than you love yourself. I doubt you’ve ever dared to love anybody that much.