Today I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists. When we are parted, we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I imagine love to be: incompleteness in absence.
If V Discovrd Tht V
Only Had 5 Mins Left 2
Say All Dat V Wantd 2
Say. Evry Telephone
Booth Wud b Ocupied
By Ppl Calling Other Ppl
2 Stammer That They
LUVD Them ... (:
