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It is completely implausible that people should fall in love with each other, but of course they do. I mean, we do. Even I do, apparently, although it makes no sense to me; the perfectly logical reasons why I should like you not being enough, although I can see no reason that they shouldn’t be, that I should be weirdly tender towards you in addition to all of the ordinary human respect and, damn it, liking that you inspire in me. That I should not only think of you often but smile a weird wobbly smile when I do. That I should care so much, all of a sudden, about little things that make you happy, about how your week is going, about the way you read things over the top of your glasses and the way your eyes crinkle up when you smile. It’s far more specific than a general fondness, very intense. It doesn’t make any sense even though most people do it. It’s pretty weird, and I really don’t know what to do about it.