awash

a·wash /əˈwôSH,əˈwäSH/ adjective

  1. covered or flooded with water, especially seawater or rain.
  2. containing large numbers or amounts of someone or something.
  3. level with the surface of water, especially the sea, so that it just washes over.

“This is how much I love you!”

It was like the book they'd read to me as a child. A baby bunny and her mama bunny. Love so big it dared to be contained in the pages of the book. Or was it a human child and human mother? Maybe the love was in fact so gargantuan that it defied species in my mind, and it mixed and mingled and swirled with all the other books I read in childhood.

“This is how much I love you!”

We point at the stars, and we can't coordinate our eager index fingers poking out at the sky, so every indicator is in a different direction, and every star further from the last. Love so vast that it crosses time and space. Space, because, obviously. Time, because if you really think about it, space is so wide and so deep and so far and so near that traveling it cannot be contained or thought of in distance. Distance equals time when it comes to space. And when you think about distance, about time, about space, about all of it multiplying into one big jumble and then exploding out into a Big Bang —

“This is how much I love you!”

It's as if the sound echoes through the ages, because it does, because it isn't something just let go of, just forgotten. Impossible. I reject even the notion of that. Reject on principle, on values, “on G-d” as the kiddos say. I can't believe someone would even expect that of me, to forgo my love for you. To up and quit. Nuh uh. Not gonna happen.

“This is how much I love you!”

We can't be immune to this feeling. YOU can't be immune to this feeling. That would imply that space could melt back into itself, that time could end in a second, that distance covered no ground. That principles and values and G-d, for G-d's sake, had no matter of consequence to you.

That the book about the bunnies or the humans or whoever or whatever meant NOTHING.

You wouldn't do that to a sweet fictional bunny-human, would you?