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Love's Pain

Unless you're willing to be hurt, do not start loving  another person. Love hurts. There's no escape. Love is an ocean of  feelings. And feelings are brittle. People throw all sorts of things into that ocean. Their bottles of frustration, the effluent of their sorrows, and all the bilge water in their boats, all are hurled into the ocean.  They  think the ocean is the right place for all that. They think the ocean is an infinite receptacle, a crucible that melts anything and everything. 

 Humans love to leave their marks wherever they can. They would have left them on the pages of history if they could. Normally, however, they leave it in your heart. "The marks humans leave are too often scars," as John Green said. 

 That's okay, but. What's life without those scars? It is those scars that make life worthwhile. Happiness leaves no marks. Happiness teaches no lessons. Happiness is not human; it belongs to angelic realms, too ethereal, as unreal as the fairies of nursery school tales. 

 As unreal as the illusions offered by a draught of whisky. The drink can numb the pain. But for how long?  The  numbness will eventually and inevitably evaporate. And then the pain will hit you harder. 

 Instead, love the pain. No, it's not masochism, if you've understood what I've been saying. It's wisdom, rather. Every wound is potential wisdom. 

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