There is something to be said about love, which may or may not have been expressed prior to now. Love is a monster. It will chew you up and spit you out the second you begin to think just maybe you have a fighting chance. Every time you start to feel it creeping up, you dawn your armor and draw your sword. With each passing time you say, I will prevail. I will not be discarded again. I will not become just another mouse caught in the jaws of a python. And thus, the dance begins.  

You step once. Step twice. Swing.    

Miss.      

The monster steps twice. Steps thrice. Slash.       

The shield rises but not fast enough. A piece of armor falls to the ground and there’s no time to pick it up.     

You step again, and then again. A strong jab to the chest, but the creature’s tail swings out and blocks it.

This goes on for as long as it must until, at the end, your armor has failed you, and your sword lie broken before your feet. Love has conquered you yet again, and though you fought bravely and valiantly, you will not cower to the Death that which is imminent. You will embrace it and hope only that it will swallow you whole like the serpent it appears to be.

Yet, it never does.         

It chews on you as one might chew a piece of bubble gum, moving it about the jaw this way and that, savoring the flavor for as long as possible, and once the gum becomes old or worn down or flavorless, it is removed and replaced. Such is the same with Love.

Trust me when I say these things, for I know what I speak is true. I have been there on the front lines of the war between Love and Lust, and while I thought I was fighting the battle against Lust, my camp was raided one evening by Love and without any warning at all, I was defeated and subsequently discarded just as harshly.

Love has no loyalties.