My dear,

Love is the condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own.

It’s horrible isn’t it? This condition?

I mean who’d want that constant craze that comes from wondering, with every moment of every day, how you can increase the happiness of the person you’ve left your heart to? Not me I tell you.

… Well, actually, yes me.

This love thing is a self-destruction I tell you.

Falsely yours,
Robert Anson Heinlein