some thoughts on love
Why is it that we're nicer to strangers than to the ones we "love"? When we're having a "bad day", we mope around the house, snap at our loved ones and seclude ourselves, but if someone from work calls or the FEDEX man drops off a package, we're suddenly the picture of serenity. Oh hello! Sign here? Great! Wonder what it might be; see you next time! Then back to our office/bedroom/bathroom to sulk and feel sorry for ourselves. The only explanation is that there truly is a thin line between love and hate. But why then do we attempt to surround ourselves with those we love when we know they have the potential to make us the most miserable? Wouldn't it be wiser to keep everyone at arms length? Or is our tendency to lash out at the ones we love merely an attempt to do that very thing? They say that it's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all, so does it follow that the best scenario is to love and lose and love and lose ad infinitum? It's enough to lead a person to drink.