Is happiness a pursuit, a decision, or both?
For me, and many others, love is difficult to come by, and even harder to maintain. It makes me wonder if I, or my partners, or anyone in this world is really doing it wrong, or if it's just impossible for love to exist in a way that doesn't chip away at people. Maybe we're all simultaneously doing it completely wrong and inherently right, all at once, regardless of the outcome? Maybe the goal of love is not to perfect it, but to merely experience it and grow from it. After all, with all the contradictions that have to coexist to make it exist in the first place, it's a wonder we ever find it at all, let alone sometimes keep it alive. As confusing and frustrating as the contradictions may be, I think they are also beautiful, sometimes hauntingly so, and so I have written this poem about them: