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"The universe is made of stories, not of atoms." -- Muriel Rukeyser
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He got all surprised and astonished, since I was so completely exploding his ideas about me, and he asked ?would you ever try again with her??
I thought a moment before replying. I thought about the impossibility of it, the million-fold quantum miracles that would have to spring from the vacuum of what is, the complete alternate universe that would have to be created for anything barely coming close to a reconciliation to manifest and I thought how I would give my last drop of power and will and soul if it were possible and I said ?Let me put it this way. If it could happen and she came back to me, to you it would be as if I never was. We would disappear, her and I, take all our money and run. Leave the cats to starve, probably. You would never see me again. I love all my friends and would miss you but it would not matter, none of this would matter, I would still go and be gone. With her. If she came back. If it could happen.?
If only if only if only if.
And there was a long moment of that kind of silence only heard in churches and grey prison cells and fogged up cars parked in parking lots that overlook certain nice-to-look-at lakes/mountains/canyons/seashores where people go to hammer out their difficult lives in the impersonality of nature, which somehow only makes the job harder because it?s like gGod is looking at you and shaking his one hundred heads.
?Wow. I never knew.?
?Yeah.? Yeah, wow. And no, you didn?t know and even with the telling of it you still won?t know. The awful weight of that lost world bearing down.
?But it won?t happen.?
?Don?t think so. Not very likely, anyways.? Never.