“And if I asked you about love I'd

get a sonnet, but you've never looked

at a woman and been truly vulnerable.

Known that someone could kill you

with a look. That someone could rescue

you from grief. That God had put an

angel on Earth just for you. And

you wouldn't know how it felt to be

her angel. To have the love be there

for her forever. Through anything,

through cancer. You wouldn't know

about sleeping sitting up in a

hospital room for two months holding

her hand and not leaving because the

doctors could see in your eyes that

the term "visiting hours" didn't

apply to you. And you wouldn't know

about real loss, because that only

occurs when you lose something you

love more than yourself, and you've

never dared to love anything that

much.”