The Weasel does not believe in soul mates.
Love is fickle. Love is blind. The tide ebbs and falls, but love remains.
Love is over cautious, and reckless too.
Love is friendship and love is hardship.
Love is having, and love is losing.
Love is keeping, and love is sharing.
Love is steadfast, and love is blind panic.
Love is not in some immaterial soul, drifting through the universe. Love is in the blood. Unyielding, uncompromising, demanding and despairing.
One can live a lifetime, and not share love. But only a moment passes.
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