To stop loving — to deny the very existence of the heart’s desire — is to succumb to an eternity of suffering within each miserable moment of every miserable day. To love is not to have, nor is it to want, but to know.

One year ago, I held your mother’s hand and promised to love and cherish her for eternity. As a rule, I do not make promises. I suppose that is the first sign you are in love: forever does not seem long enough.

I first saw your mother at a club in Houston. (She says she saw me at an earlier time, but won’t share the story with me. You should ask her about it. I expect she would enjoy telling it to you.)

When I first saw her, she did not look like the kind of woman I would fall in love with. She was younger than I knew was safe. She was wearing blue jeans and a blue t-shirt and had her hair pulled back in a punky-, indie- rock kind of way. Her hair was blonde back then, and she was wearing her converse. For some reason she seemed shorter then. (Now she and I are the same height.)

Had you asked me to describe the perfect woman, your mother would have been the opposite. I suppose that is the second sign you are in love: nothing else matters.

When I saw her, the world disappeared. A single thought struck me. Your mother burrowed herself inside my head. Some characterize this as love at first site, but I don’t think that would be accurate. Love happens in your heart. But you recognize where it can grow best. I suppose this is the third sign you are in love: you know it when you see it.

You will spend your life doing things for yourself. And you will spend your life doing things for others. Much of the time, you will do the right things for the wrong reasons and the wrong things for the right reasons. There’s no way to avoid these mistakes. Nothing to know, no secrets to share. As long as you keep your heart straight, you at least will always work toward something right no matter what goes wrong.

With love, it’s different. You will do things for yourself, or for them, but yo-u will do things for the both of you, the two of you together. That’s what makes love special. And that’s the last sign you are in love: it’s no longer about you, either of you. Love is about the two of you together. You become something different.

I’ve done and seen many wonderful things. I’ve done and seen many terrible things. I’ve heard the most amazing stories and seen amazing beauty. Nothing is ever more wonderful, terrible, or beautiful than love.

One of my dearest memories is sitting on the sand at Surfside watching your mother dance barefoot on the shore, the wind rushing through her hair and tearing at the red wrap skirt.

Of all the things you can do in this world, the things you will remember most fondly will be the things you do with your love. The greatest things you do for yourself and the greatest things you do for others will never be so great as the things you do for the two of you together.

Cherish every moment you have with your love. They will be the greatest moments of your life.

Sometimes you work so hard because you feel it’s worth so much. Sometimes you don’t work enough. Sometimes you run because it’s not what you wanted. Sometimes you slow and relent. Sometimes it’s the love you forget. You discard your heart as spent. Sometimes it’s the hate you love, thrashing for something to rend.

Sometimes.

Sometimes you beg me to stay. Sometimes you beg me to leave. Sometimes you’re too honest. Sometimes it’s always deceit. Sometimes your treacherous and cruel. Sometimes you don’t mean a thing. Sometimes you make me your fool. Sometimes you make me your king. Sometimes it’s the love you hate, thrashing against your heart’s traitorous chains. Somehow it’s aways the same.

Sometimes.

For all the times I’ve doubted, I’m sorry. And for all the times I believed. Sometimes might never be enough. But it’s all the time for me. And for all the cruelties I’ve mustered. And those where I’ve only been witness. And all the times in health. And all the times in sickness. And all the times you loved me. And for all the stolen kisses. Sometimes it’s all smiles. Sometimes it’s all stings.

Sometimes.

I never built a cage. I only wanted a home. And sometimes when you’re not there, I’m really glad you’re gone. Sometimes you feel trapped. Sometimes you feel alone. Sometimes you say you’re in love. Sometimes you say you have none. And sometimes you’ll only have me.

But sometimes I get tired. And sometimes I can’t wait. Sometimes I don’t give a shit. Sometimes it makes me crazed. In the end it doesn’t matter, because in the end it’s always the same. Sometimes.

According to many, God is always sending angels with messages telling you what you need to hear, that show you the way you need to go and what you need to do.

God and angels have no concept of time. Time is man’s unique prison. This is why God has given Man choice. Not so that he can choose between good and evil. (You may only ever choose good.) God has given Man the ability to choose when good must happen.

Time is your greatest enemy. This is why man’s every achievement works to conquer time, and why you should spend so much of your time engulfed in other’s stories. Only by living through as much shared time as possible will you be able to successfully conquer time and choose what good must happen at every moment.

You will never make the good choice at every proper junction. But this is what the good man must try to do, and this is what you must try to do if you are to be a good man.

There are terrible quests and there are wonderful quests.

A wonderful quest is something you must do that results in great things. The trials you must overcome, the sequence of time you must traverse must be navigated. You have no choice but to continue or to fail what fate has set before you.

The terrible quest does not result in wonderful things. The terrible quest results in terrible things being overcome. It is a path through evil that Fate sets before you. Not so you may do evil, but so you will live through evil. And at the end, you will overcome the evil. In much the way a ship that weathers a terrible storm, its sailors wake to an oridinary dawn on an oridinary ship on an oridinary sea, still carries an extraoridinary cargo.

The only good in suffering the terrible quest is that the extraoridinary cargo does not disappear beneath the seas of time.

I am on a terrible quest.