There is a reason why emotions come from a different place than rational thoughts. Without impulses driven by how we feel we would never take any risks, do anything spontaneous, or make some of the biggest mistakes of our lives that we may regret forever. You know… the stuff that gives life value.

Maybe the most meaningful aspects of our emotional beings are the things that we do for love. The self-sacrifice that is generated through our hearts would never happen if our minds were in command. I have done the most irresponsible, irrational, ridiculous acts in the name of love and I would do them all again.

Part of loving someone is the insanity spawned from your desire to prioritize their needs over yours. Sure, there may be a selfish aspect to this because of course your intention is for your object of love to love you back, but the reality of how this selfish selflessness manifests is what I am talking about… I think.

Most recently my love-ometer has been tested by this incredibly sick Munch who not only got me sick by barfing all over me, snotting in my face, and making me eat her half chewed up waffle that had fallen into a juice puddle creating a soggy softy texture that made me think of eating brain tissue…. But also is someone I love like I love the stars. I want The Munch to feel better more than I want to breathe underwater while being able to telepathically communicate with coral, so I have been doing everything I can to be there for her through this period of suffering.

I know that sleep will help her heal the most, and so when she fell asleep on top of me when I thought we were just hugging, I didn’t have the heart to move her. If I tried just the littlest bit she would moan, so I would quickly let her snuggle back in and continue her rest. The problem was I was stuck under her, had nothing to do because my book was down stairs and phone battery was too low to have meaningful text conversations, and I had to pee. But I stayed pinned underneath her for two hours biding my time wondering how much damage it would really do if I just peed and let my urine slowly seep into the mattress.

Ummm I could see this as torture, or maybe some type of zen mediation…