让我自由让我飞

So if I asked you about art, you’d probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him, life’s work, political aspirations, the whole works, right? I bet you can’t tell me what smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling. I ask you about war, you’d probably throw Shakespeare at me, right? “Once more into the breach, dear friends.” But you’ve never been near one. You’ve never held your bestfriend’s head in your lap and watch him grasp his last breath looking to you for help. If I ask you about love, you’d probably quote me a sonnet, but you’ve never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable, known someone that could level you with her eyes, feeling like God put an angel on Earth just for you, who could rescue you from the depths of hell. And you wouldn’t know what it’s like to be her angel, to have that love for her be there forever, through anything.

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