functional insanity

Often I wonder whether it is indeed possible to love someone despite everything that's ever happened between you, despite titanic personality clashes of the scale of the earth and the moon, despite titular earthquakes of emotional gravitas, despite the rhythms of normalcy and common sense that beg for acknowledgment.

Could this mean that 50 years from now, while laying in blissed out nakedness with some random unshaven lover that I've fallen onto along the expense of sandy beach that lines my inner desires, I'll constantly be comparing fingers to fingers, touch to touch. Will I be carrying him in my heart forever at the expense of appreciating the immediate and the sensually present? My youth is fleeting or already gone and what remains is only contemplation and hindsight.

I was chatting with an older friend the other week who described to me how she would never forget one love who buried himself so deep in her existence that even though she's now married with three kids, she still feels intimate with her ghost of lovers past...