I think we can all agree that when we first find love (no matter how misguided or blind we are) we feel like our little friend "Super Kitty". We are faster than a speeding bullet, can leap tall buildings in a single bound; we fly through space and everything looks absolutely "f....ckng" fantastic; that is, until we crash! This is when it turns out that the object of our affection has feet of clay. In fact, it would be nice if the object of my affection had cement shoes instead (but that's another story and something for The Godfather to work out).
The answer: I DON'T FREAKIN' KNOW!!!
And you thought I was going to say something really philosophical, right? Sorry to disappoint you.
All I can say is that while the first phase of love can be as exhilarating as
landing a 747 airplane on your own while being guided by "ground control", and have Bruce Willis in the back of the plane shooting all the bad guys; having your heart broken is like crashing the bloody plane and killing everyone onboard--including Bruce Willis!
Is there a payoff to putting yourself through all this, only to come out bruised and absolutely crushed with disappointment at the other end? Ask the Dalai Lama.
*If you’re an author, your writing suddenly gains more depth.
*If you’re a woman over 40, you have a higher chance of being killed by a terrorist than finding a real man.
*You get sick of people telling you that “what goes around comes around”. This means to me that I must’ve done something really terrible in a previous life (or even this one) in order to deserve meeting those #%&@#@ good-for-nothing SOBs.
*Life’s a bitch and then you die :-(
*“Eat, Pray, Love”. I tried eating and got indigestion; I prayed, but this didn't change any of the psychos out there; I didn’t find anyone to love yet, but then, I'm not Julia Roberts; however, ... I AM STILL COOL!