My mom: "Katie, your last post, the one about love, it was such a beautiful piece of writing."
Me: "Thanks mom, that means a lot to me."
Mom: "And someday I'd like to sit down with you and have a philosophical discussion about your beliefs."
Me: "You mean you think my beliefs about love and romance are wrong?"
Mom: "Well, I don't want to say they're wrong."
Me: "But you think they're a little extreme?"
Mom: "Yes, maybe."
Me: "But here's the thing. I posted the piece as a way of saying that I'm not going to deny it. I'm not going to pretend that I feel anything different, because regardless of how I'm perceived, it is the way it is for me."
Mom: "Do you mean you posted it to cover your tracks?"
Me: "Cover my tracks?
Mom: "Yes. So let's say next time, when you write about love, you've already admitted everything so no one can accuse you of being too extreme."
Me: "No, that's not it. I'm not covering my tracks, I'm declaring it."
Mom: "Declaring it, okay, that makes more sense."
Me: "Also, I'm not saying that what I feel or want today will be what I feel or want tomorrow. I'm just talking about knowing myself, and knowing what I feel and want now. The thing is, I was married for 17 years and I know what love is. I know what it is with David, I know what it is with G., with C., and with A. My first serious relationship was when I was 17, and I know what that love is. I know the temporary kind, the cruel kind, and the kind in between. I have no illusions about my illusions, I'm not a 20-year-old girl holding out for something she saw in a movie. I'm a 46-year-old woman who, when it comes to love has a huge body of work to draw from, and who's earned the right to feel exactly what she feels, and want exactly what she wants, and have it change with no warning, and who makes no apologies for anything."
Mom: "You know what?"
Mom: "That makes complete sense to me."
Me: "Was that our philosophical discussion?"