Most of you have been where I am tonight. The crash site of unrequited love. You ask yourself, How did I get here What was it about Was it her smile Was it the way she crossed her legs, the turn of her ankle, the poignant vulnerability of her slender wrists What are these elusive and ephemeral things that ignite passion in the human heart That's an age old question. It's perfect food for thought on a bright midsummer's night.
To love is not a passive thing. To love is active voice. When I love I do something, I function, I give. I do not love in order that I may be loved back again, but for the creative joy of loving. And every time I do so love I am freed, at least a little, by the outgoing of love, from enslavement to that most intolerable of master, myself.