Is it possible for a person to love without wanting love back? Is anything so pure? Or is love, by its nature, a reciprocity, like oceans and clouds, an evaporating of seawater and a replenishing by rain?
Ordinary Pain by Stevie Wonder
He folded his fear into a perfect rose. He held it out in the palm of his hand. She took it from him and put it in her hair.
Loving you was like going to war; I never came back the same.