"You'll never marry. Not you, and you'll never be still" says the gypsy to Jeannette in "Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit", a book I loved so much I did a thesis on it in college. Perhaps I am like Jeannette, I can never be still, stillness kills me. And I will never marry, because love is a miracle and miracles are for the believers, and I believe in nothing except my constant ability to mess up my own life.
Peace does not become me. Peace implies stillness. I need motion.
Oops, I've done it again. Just maybe I need this and he didn't mean to lead me on. All is forgiven.
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