“T’is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.” ~ Alfred Tennyson

Is it? I’m not so sure. I feel for people who fall in love, then fall out and never find it again. I think it’s much worse to know what you’re missing, than it is to never know. Those who have been in love seem like they are on the eternal quest to find something they lost. Someone who can equal or emulate that feeling…like an addict chasing their first high.

I know people in both camps, and those who have never been in love seem so much happier, generally speaking, than those who have. The ones I know of share a startlingly similar quality - they are the Jerry Seinfeld’s of the world - the jokesters, the ones who make you laugh, the ones always cracking jokes. The only redeeming quality to finding, and losing love, that I can see, is that once you have it in your life, you can so easily see it when it hits you again.

I’ve always felt that falling in love is a way of being reminded that we’re not really in control of our lives, and falling out of love, or worse, experiencing a broken heart, is a way of reminding us that we’re alive and that things can touch us. Of course, I’m open to debate on all of my middle of the night ramblings.