Love comes easy, but it doesn't really go away after that. No matter how many times you hammer it down, lock it away, drown it, or excise it with home surgery, you always seem to find it somewhere. Growing in the dark little corners of your mind, where you want it least and need it most. It'll pop your stitches for you, rebreak old bones. It's there and there's not much for it, so you can choose to let it kill you or put it to work somewhere else, but it'll always remind you which way its roots are pointing, every time you tug on it. 

If you were expecting to get thru life unscathed, or, even more ludicrously, ALIVE, well
good luck.