Instead she climbed into the silence with him, staying there, feeling its soft curves

We could drive hundreds of miles
At night through dandelions.

∆ John Ashbery, from "They Dream Only of America"

I knew that love could not be ultimate. But when I sat there with you, exposing the many things I could not do, and when you held my hand telling me you'd be here for whatever I could offer, I must be honest, I stopped disbelieving for a moment. It is not to say that I found infinite comfort and measurement in the chaos and complexities of what we shared, but I started to believe that I could be loved and valued even in my existential failures.

you have the agency at every moment to make something very loving happen