"[Being in love] 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 build up all these defenses. You build up this whole armor, for years,
so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any
other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life. 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 any more. 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. I hate love." -- Rose Walker, "Sandman: The Kindly Ones" by
Neil Gaiman
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