wire mother

In her defense:

Try to tell me you don't need milk. Stupid baby. Go ahead and die.

How do you, infant, know what you need?

Love, they say, is a matter too subtle for mere factual necessity. The grossly structured ontologies of fact, of conditionality viewed from on high, will never capture the feeling of seeking; of the terror you are born with, of what you might not find. To live is to be afraid.

So be it. What is subtle is small. Too small to count.

Facts are what govern life, stupid baby. If you don't learn that there is milk in me, another baby will, and that baby will live. And that baby's seeking will be what love means from then on, because you and your seeking will be dead.

Please understand. Please come drink.

-—

There's a scene in Knight and Day where Tom Cruise is trying to explain to Cameron Diaz that her opinion of him should really not determine whether she lets him save her life. He says, "with me," holding his hand flat near his brow, then "without me," and drops it to hover near his chest. He does this twice.

Have you ever been in a position like this? Desperate to care for someone, to have them trust you even though they don't, to help them survive what they don't understand?