Have you ever cared for someone deeply – a friend or lover perhaps – and then found yourself hurt for some reason? It might have been a spat, a minor misunderstanding, a few careless words spoken in momentary anger. It might not have been anyone’s fault, really, but you go away feeling raw, dejected, the salty tears pooling into fresh wounds. And after a brief period of lonely grief, you pull yourself together, smile determinedly and say to yourself, it doesn’t matter. That one sorry individual? Not important! There are countless others who have proven themselves more worthy of my regard.

And you go about your life, happy now with the knowledge that you have freed yourself from those constricting emotions that shackle the feeble together – your rational mind has little need for the company of fault-prone individuals. But during certain solitary moments, your remorseful mind flits back to that one person, lingering there for so long that you realize you have done injustice to yourself and to your loved one by denying your feelings, by pretending people are replaceable, by seeking to cheapen a dear relationship with empty reason and arrogant rationalizations. Instead of accepting the pain, you have buried it, hurting yourself intensely in the process. And it is at that very point that you realize how despicable you are, how ashamed you should be, and how very desperately you want that sole person in your life.