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That Doesn't Make Any Sense

This morning, I read a headline that an orgy was being organized in Toronto for disabled people.

I don't want to be included in everything.

Put down your magazine, turn off the TV, because it's about to get real.

At the moment, I can think of nothing worse than saying, "I love you" with my body, and then saying it again to somebody else. Everything you've heard about men is a huge lie, the worst lie ever told. You may be a man reading this, and this culture has lied about you and me.

All men want is sex, they say. No; animals want sex. Men want to connect. I'm serious. If you see some guy giving his body to scores of women, he's hiding something. Something is wrong.

I don't say this because it's the pious Christian thing to say; I say it from experience. My "I love you" is much too big to be summed up in the desire of a sex act. It may be a fitting way to say "I love you" to a particular woman at a particular time, and I won't be afraid or ashamed when that time comes. I'm telling you, though: if what's in your heart and mine can be filled by an urge, we need bigger hearts.

You and you alone are mine until I die. Only God has a stronger claim on you than I do. If I spend the rest of my days searching out the mystery of you, and us together, and how it's a sign of Christ and the Church, what a life! What a worthy life! Our children will know that they are here because I love you so much, I ran out of words. The words couldn't even make a start. All I am, all I have ever been in this life is now yours.


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