My disposition is basically skeptical, but Kierkegaard cuts to the heart of skepticism’s fault here:
“If it is true–as conceited shrewdness, proud of not being deceived, thinks–that one should believe nothing which he cannot see by means of his physical eyes, then first and foremost one ought to give up believing in love. If one did this and did it out of fear of being deceived, would not one then be deceived? […] To cheat oneself out of love is the most terrible deception; it is an eternal loss for which there is no reparation, either in time or in eternity. For usually… when there is talk about being deceived in love the one deceived is still related to love, and the deception is simply that it is not present where it was thought to be; but one who is self-deceived has locked himself out and continues to lock himself out from love.” (Works of Love, Hong & Hong translation)
Am I right? It’s like the romantic version of Pascal’s Wager.
Oh, sorry for the hiatus: I’ve been traveling. 😉