I would never claim to know more about love than most people. All humans — and maybe non-human animals too — probably come equipped with a fairly intuitive understanding of it. But as a widow, having seen the one I then loved most in the world die, my view of what…
I know things don’t always work out.
I know life doesn’t last. Life is finite.
I know love survives death.
But I also know sometimes love doesn’t work out, doesn’t last, doesn’t live up to all of its promises.