We’re all dying inside, some way or another. Even if you’re too proud to admit it, someday it’s going to hit you, after so much repression into your mind of how you truly feel. Love, it’s always the hurt we feel. Love is what tears us apart, nothing else. The love for friends, for family, for that special person. It’s an all-consuming monster. Sure it’s beautiful at first, but in the end it’s hell.