"Let him be fifty feet away, let him not even speak to you, let him not even see you, he permeated, he prevailed, he imposed himself. He changed everything."
-Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse
Twice I've thought I had everything planned out, lined up, orchestrated. Twice everything turned upside-down, rearranged itself, was rudely interrupted. Last time, by Graves' disease, this time, by love, with all its blessed and beautiful inconvenience.
