Love, actually

When do you decide that your heart has had enough? When do you stop trying?

Is their something about letting your heart get broken by yet another woman that makes you stronger? Wiser? A better person?

Or is the act of being willing itself salvation? Is giving up the death blow?

I suppose it's a metaphor for life itself. Life absolutely sucks. Every day you go to work, come home exhausted, and fill your leisure hours with something designed to take your mind off of life because it sucks so much. You spend life escaping from life. But the moment you give up on all of that, you die. This sucky life is all we have, so we persevere.

So it is with love. Falling in love sucks. It sucks because it's always unrequited. (If not immediately, then eventually.) You close your eyes and dream, escape from reality, and there fall in love with the girl of your dreams, because in real life she doesn't love you back. But the moment you give up on love, your heart dies, and you become a cold, miserable creature. This sucky love is all we have, so we persevere, and try to fall in love again.

It's pointless in the sense that we never achieve our goal; but it's the most important part of life in the sense that it is what keeps us alive.