You are loved by me.

Two thoughts, cribbed from Ira Glass on This American Life…

The most remarkable thing about the phrase “I love you” is how rarely it’s used to literally mean “I love you—you are loved by me.” It’s used much more often, I think, to mean a hundred other things. “Tell me that you love me,” or “I need to get off the phone now,” or “Things are fine between us, right?”

… and Henry Kissinger, as quoted in my professor’s Henry Kissinger and the American Century…

In the life of every person there comes a point when he realizes that out of all the seemingly endless possibilities of his youth, he has in fact become one actuality.





When I say "I love you," I always want it to mean literally and exclusively that ("you are loved by me"), but don't I sometimes make a point of saying it when I most need to hear it back?

As for the other, I've been rebelling against this fact this week. I was riding the bus to work this week and looking out the windows on the sides of the bus as it barreled down the main drag, feeling trapped in my job, not wanting to get stuck, wondering how what I'm doing in my work will ever help me along the paths I actually want to pursue in my life. I don't want to commit to being one set person yet. I don't want to admit that it's already too late to chase some of my airier goals.