Have you ever been in love?
Horrible, isn’t it?
It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens your heart and it means someone can get inside you and mess you up.
You give them a piece of you. They don’t ask for it. They do something dumb one day like kiss you, or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore.
Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so a simple phrase like “maybe we should just be friends” or “how very perceptive” turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart.
It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a body-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain.
Nothing should be able to do that.
Especially not love.
(Rose Walker in "The Kindly Ones" by Neil Gaiman.)
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"You are mortal: it is the mortal way. You attend the funeral, you bid the dead farewell.
You grieve. Then you continue with your life.
And at times the fact of her absence will hit you like a blow to the chest, and you will weep.
But this will happen less and less as time goes on.
She is dead.
You are alive.
So live."
~ Dream to his son Orpheus ("Brief Lives")
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