as a generation, we suffer because we can’t readily identify love. we’ve been left with very little human example, so the whole concept seems faulty. we amaze at the real thing, confuse it for fairytale, as if we don’t deserve happiness. we’ve seen and heard horror stories of its disappointments and betrayal, buy into illusion, and rarely see the success stories. we’ve lost confidence and our ability to trust, and glorify our ability to rationalize. most just dream of it’s success. I’m done hunting this ghost, but I am on the lookout. just a glimpse is the beginning of living.