I think I finally get why it’s better to love and lose than never love. And I think it has everything to do with the soul’s circumference of itself. I think the soul, possibly existing, possibly immortal, is still very much naive. It needs great invisible food carried by emotion to grow, and this food is joy and suffering. I do not like that suffering is food for the soul but I cannot deny that this is one of the more effective courses. And suffering is a food you eat without notice or prep. On your plate, in your belly before you know you sat down. I think that men who avoid love do so because they want to avoid suffering. Their souls have no texture or minor chord. There is nothing refined in them. For suffering refines one as well. There was my love, ended abruptly. Now I am left eating this. As the days pass and as the soul digests, the palate seems to grow. I no longer mock a man who keeps on his wedding ring. I understand people I’ve never met. Something of the pain unites us, makes us more human. What is this? Why does this occur? Why should anything unite, cultivate, increase through pain? These mysteries and I would have missed them if I had remained a child in my emotions and refused the love glorious that ultimately led me to sorrow.
Stimie  (via modernhepburn)