The Wise Man's Fear
Secrets of the heart are private and painful. We want nothing more than to hide them from the world. They do not swell and press against the mouth. They live in the heart, and the longer they are kept, the heavier they become.
We love what we love. Reason does not enter into it. In many ways, unwise love is the truest love. Anyone can love a thing because. But to love something despite. To know the flaws and love them too. That is rare and pure and perfect.
posted by Jules at 2:59 PM
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