I’m sitting on my porch watching the moon set in this lonely star filled sky and I wonder what the meaning of it all is. The only answer that I can conjure up in this 21 year old maze of a mind is love. The reason why we suffer, and bear the weight of it all on our backs is because there is something to live for. I can’t say that I know everything, because I know nothing. I can’t say that I am wise because, really, I am dumb. The result of all of my actions, right or wrong ,has been love. We sacrifice because we believe in something, be it God, or the moon, or our neighbor. We make our mistakes because, knowing the result, they are not mistakes at all; they are learning experiences. We learn the undeniable, the unattainable, the impossible because we do those silly things that lead us to excessive thought and regret, and that taste of true happiness, that moment we thought we’d never find is worth all of the sleepless nights. The trick is not to regret a damn minute because it was all worth something. We never suffer for nothing. One day we will look back on all that was lost, on all that caused us terrible pain, and there will be a story to tell. There will be something worth the sacrifice of that tiny part of ourselves, the struggle, the loss; and that is love. To love is to find God, and if there is one thing in life worth living for, it is that passion that gives us a reason for living. Give me a quarter for all of the moments that I have felt that warmth bursting from my heart and you will find a pauper lying asleep on the corner of that down town street. Love is worth a lifetime of suffering. To feel the warmth of heaven bursting in a heart of hell is to feel the coolness of water after ten years without rain. Don’t forget the great to hate the bad, because that is what will give the whole experience worth. Good or bad, there is beauty in hell.