Contemplative Question of the Day:

Why is love so scary? Subquestion: Why have we all begun to think of it as an enemy rather than a gift?

I'm not being sappy here, I'm really actually curious. I mean, there's the obvious answer of "You can get hurt," and most people have gotten hurt on account of it, but we get hurt from falling off of our bikes and skinning our knees as kids and we still get back on. Granted, it takes a lot longer for a heart to heal, it's not a flesh wound that will close up and show just a faint white scar after a few days, it's definitely more potent than that. However, the very resilience we have to such things as cuts and scrapes can be measured in the regular, every-day abuses, too. But it's funny how fear can really fuck you over much more than the act of love itself. Signe lives in constant fear of needles and doctors and hospitals (I feel the same about the latter two) and what would be the result if we didn't see the doctor? I for one found out that I have a gallstone that's been in there for God knows how long, and if we didn't have vaccinations we'd be dead. Maybe in fear we actually kill ourselves, destroy our happiness by fearing its temporariness. It's understandable to be afraid, but are you going to run away forever?