People often hear the phrase home is where the heart is, yet people often forget the heart is not so much unlike a home. A home can have many guests who occupy it for a time, like all guests they must eventually take their leave. Yet the one who stays the owner, didn’t do so by theft, for one cannot lift and steal a home nor they can steal a heart as people are apt to say; no they are simply came back to what always to belonged to them, they simply came home. In occupying a heart as a home, they bring warmth and light where once darkness and coldness existed in emptiness.

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Truth of it is that we don’t lose our loved ones when they do take their leave from us. Love if it is real, is never about possession and one cannot lose what is not owned, rather it is we have lost a part of ourselves to them.

Love will make men of beasts, lust however will most certainly make beasts of men.

A lover is far crueler than any enemy. For when an enemy grievously wounds, more often than not, one dies. With a lover however, the wounds they leave do not kill, but hurt as if they should have anyways.

It is only until we find ourselves loving another, that we are truly forced to confront the power of our own humanity.