Continuing with the cheesy metaphor -- should these doors never open again, would I manage to find contentment as a man should, or fluster as a child would?
I... I don't know.
I'll have to sleep on this one. Maybe it won't matter by morning. But I'm never that lucky.
Oh, love wash over a multitude of things
Love wash over a multitude of things
Love wash over a multitude of things
Make us whole.
-Sara Groves
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