has only mostly been witnessed by our self. Not even I know myself in my entirety. And yet, the deepest desire of most is to be understood completely, to share absolutely. Love is a compromise between the ideal and the possible. A paradox of compromise; because two cannot be one, and the ideal cannot compromise. Love is a fool’s hope. And to be a fool is to be human. We are all fools together. But even together, we fools are alone. This is part of the tragic state of the human condition, and part of the tragic tale of the human experience.
