A man only has a grip as tight as he does because he knows that if he lets go, even slightly, he will hurl himself into the abyss.
They say when a parent dies, a child feels his own mortality. But when a child dies, it’s immortality that a parent loses.
I can see the pain in your eyes. It’s very familiar. You’ve lost something. And now you’re frozen in time. Can’t move forward. Can’t go back.
When you are what I am, you don’t feel things the way normal humans do. An emotion is like a flavor in my mouth. I can taste it. Joy tastes like strawberries. Hate is like ice chips in a martini. And love is… rosewater. I enjoy them all except for one. Betrayal. That has the taste of the char on a piece of burnt meat.
My fellow Americans, what do humans love the most? To what do we give our highest value? Is it family, friends, our homes, money, notoriety? No. Above all, humans love fear. The fear that over time we have honed and polished and built up, brick by brick, until it stands before us every day as tall as the Trump Tower. How do I know we love fear more than our children? Because we are willing to ruin their lives in service of some irrational fear of losing them.
I do not deny that that woman is horrible. Horrible. But in the next hundred years of living, you may find someone who treats you better, who screws you better, who makes you laugh more than cry. You’ll never find anyone who loves you as much as she does.