Incompleteness feels the hearts of so many, a substance made from steel blocks off a piece of the whole. Creates a failure to complete the self and become whole. Love is a feeling so sure but non less mysterious, withering away at the mere touch and vanishing just as fast as it has come.
Too often, we become obsessive about Love, letting it fill every thought we have, Consuming us whole. Love is the greatest cure and the world's worst poison. Far too often, love is parasitic, an attempt to use the love between two people as a treatment rather than a cure. Treatment is used to lessen the symptoms of life; notwithstanding, a cure is deeper and purer.
Repeatedly, one may use love in a narcissistic attempt to fix themselves. To want love to feel complete, to feel whole. However, such relationships built on such a foundation are a facade. As long as one or both parties attempt to gain something, there is no love. Love is unlike the stock market; it can not be bought and traded. Such a Loving relationship cannot be expected to be commodified.
Love is simpler, quieter, and nobler. It is rooted not in the pits and gullies of devotion or narcissism but in a partnership. To walk side by side on equal ground to look into the other's eye and see a reflection of each other.