in-between.

i'm convinced that human experience lies somewhere in-between what ought, and ought not be.

"here is my bright standing young man", a mother proudly presents, "and here, are his inconsolable failures:
intelligent, genteel, faithful, bellicose, a liar, scum.
i love him."
the juggernaut of irreconcilable differences knocks me over; it flattens me.
i am suddenly two dimensional, a irregular oval, laid bare for all to see.
it's too much. the surprise surprises me every time.
he is, in fact, both wonderful and evil, practically simultaneously.

the mystery begins my love affair with human nature:
that i can look at another and see both wretchedness and beauty. that i can know the tug-of-war (and it is a war) inside of my heart, which is also beautifully wretched. or wretchedly beautiful. or both.
that the most eternal capacity in all of our being is the very thing that allows us to be torn apart.
that the same surprising game of catch, throwing me from love to hate to love, can bring me to equilibrium.
to forgiveness.
to a third dimension.