No Random.

No, this isn't a totally random post. Admittedly, it is spontaneous. 

As I watch Last Station I am confronted with writers and love. 

How does that go together? Love inspires. 

It inspires others to poetically confess their love and, in turn, help more people to put their own emotions into words.

What does love in general do with me? Indeed, in a way it inspires me to write, too. 

Not enthusiastically, but rather the cynical and plagued way. 

What I hate about love is that it hurts. It makes me sick. 

By the way, I am talking about the interpersonal kind of love. 

Love for the truth, love for God is absolute, not relative, since there are obvious reasons to love him. 
The only hard thing is to be convinced of receiving his undeserved love in return.

Painful love is not seldom or rare. I find it very often. Actually I see it everywhere. 

Even when two persons are earnestly committed to each other there is the pain of being separated for a while. 

Plus, I as a very talkative person would feel sore not being allowed to express my sentiments at all. 

In fact, pain within the ranges of love is not seldom.

Love does definitely not mean to be hyper or ecstasiated all the time. 

It takes long to be sufficiently and long-term content in a relationship.

Certainly, a person is liable to adjust the own thinking, e.g. as concerns jealousy. 
This is especially needed in an existing relationship, then the mutual and continuous improvement of both personalities has particular priority. 

You make me a better person.

As a matter of fact, the mate partially contributes to such self-improvement. 

This is one of the greatest things I anticipate.

However, first of all, I wholeheartedly and most sincerely try not to please my mate or myself, but God, so that I get the highest satisfaction of a life by my own. 

Only then there exists the slightest possibility to be truly delighted in a relationship.

♫ Rob Dougan - There's Only Me