Like the leaf clings to the tree,
Oh, my darling, cling to me
For we're like creatures of the wind, and wild is the wind
Wild is the wind


Love is so strange.

Look at my dad. He's been married for nearly fifty years now. For thirty of these years, his life has been this: He wakes up with his wife, has breakfast with her, they probably do some things together during the morning. At noon, he gets in his car and drives to my mother's. He has lunch with her (and my brother, and I, when I lived there), works there, watches a little tv in the evening, has a light dinner, and then at 10 pm he gets into his car and drives back home. Holidays are evenly split, so are vacations.

For years and years I've puzzled over this. I've never quite managed the courage to ask either of them how exactly that works. Have I mentioned questions about my dad are forbidden for as long as I can remember? I guess it's just the way love worked out for him. Now I take he loves both of them, and he can't live without either.

I gather my mom is not that happy with the agreement, but she has nevertheless endured it for 30 years. 30 years, man. I guess that's why she's so intent in seeing Bel and I married. But, what good would that do, I wonder?

Look at Bel's mom. She told me once, she'd been married to Bel's dad for some time, and then, just like that, one day he came to her and told her: "I think I don't love you anymore".

And that was that.

Love is so strange.