Whyyyyyyyy?

Ok, I really did look for a picture to put here with my post.  But I couldn't find anything about the evils of love that wasn't bitter.

I'm not bitter.  On a whim, I dug into my top drawer and pulled out a little leather-bound book of poetry I've written.  I don't really write poetry much anymore but there was a time when I was writing quite prolifically about the things in my heart.  As I browsed the pages I remembered the relationship moments that inspired the poems.  And I realized something.

It does not matter whether the relationship was over before it began, burned like a candle from both ends, was long-lasting and peaceful yet slowly faded away, was deeply intimate like the poetry of Song of Solomon, or stormed through two lives like the weather at the ocean's shore.  Somewhere in the course of the story, whether in the beginning, the middle, or at the end, that relationship will hurt.  That is what love does.

Do people seek love because it improves the impact of their poetry?