Nothing Stops

rw-book-cover

Metadata

All people want is for nothing to happen; all anybody wants is another day of our soft, stupid little lives, to be allowed the vulnerabilities we have built into them. We clutter up our houses with useless objects that mean something to us; we adopt pets who would slow us down in a crisis. All this is a way of ignoring the truth that nothing stops, which is to say it is a form of love.
Love’s arguments are bad and its weapons are faulty. It is always trying to claim that the temporary is permanent. I cannot make anyone any promises, not really. I cannot be certain that I will always be able to protect someone, or provide for them. The ongoing of the world, each next phone call, each next headline, each next atrocity, makes it fundamentally impossible to know that I could keep my word if I gave it. But I give it anyway. I make myself more vulnerable. I weigh myself down so that it is harder and harder to run. Love means I have to make contingency plans. It means I have to worry about what I leave behind. I have allowed something to matter. I have allowed something to depend on me, and I have allowed myself to depend on someone.
People say “forever” to one another because forever is a love word. People say “always” because always is built into the old roads that romance learns, but both words are a lie on their face, and that’s why we like them. Everything washes away; we all know this. We are making a declaration that it is worth it to choose the losing side

rw-book-cover

All people want is for nothing to happen; all anybody wants is another day of our soft, stupid little lives, to be allowed the vulnerabilities we have built into them. We clutter up our houses with useless objects that mean something to us; we adopt pets who would slow us down in a crisis. All this is a way of ignoring the truth that nothing stops, which is to say it is a form of love.
Love’s arguments are bad and its weapons are faulty. It is always trying to claim that the temporary is permanent. I cannot make anyone any promises, not really. I cannot be certain that I will always be able to protect someone, or provide for them. The ongoing of the world, each next phone call, each next headline, each next atrocity, makes it fundamentally impossible to know that I could keep my word if I gave it. But I give it anyway. I make myself more vulnerable. I weigh myself down so that it is harder and harder to run. Love means I have to make contingency plans. It means I have to worry about what I leave behind. I have allowed something to matter. I have allowed something to depend on me, and I have allowed myself to depend on someone.
People say “forever” to one another because forever is a love word. People say “always” because always is built into the old roads that romance learns, but both words are a lie on their face, and that’s why we like them. Everything washes away; we all know this. We are making a declaration that it is worth it to choose the losing side