straightforward.

Nothing in life is more complicated than love. Nothing gives us more pleasure, more security, more memories, than love. Nothing helps us to sleep soundly so much as love. In the same way, nothing is so difficult to lose, so troublesome from which to separate, or so hard to decide. Love is, at its greatest, the fuel on which the machinery of life runs. At its worst, love brings everything else in life to a screaming halt. Clothes don't get washed, mail doesn't get into the box, food doesn't get bought. Distraction rules the day. Sometimes it's completely impossible to simply carry on. Sometimes physical symptoms appear once the emotional and mental strain has gone on long enough. Sometimes it is pure despair.

Other times it's liberating. Every now and then, when the sun peeks through the clamor of clouds, there is the future, only a stone's throw away. Keeping the future in mind is, naturally, the most difficult part of having a broken heart. If we could simply keep the future in mind, I don't think hearts could be broken. As it is, we are a species completely obsessed with the future: what to make for dinner tomorrow, the list of to-dos for next week, planning for babies and home-buyings. Strangely enough, when it comes to love, all future plannings stop. We can only be absorbed in the present. Although love it the greatest thing a two-legged can know, it's also the one great device of torture in this reality. It is the ultimate paradox, the black and white, the goodness and the evil.