Does Love Mean Anything?

Some say love is the meaning of life. These people haven't had enough bad things happen to them, I think, or maybe they've had so many bad things happen to them they are grasping at straws.

If love is the meaning of life, the meaning of life must be a very inconsistent thing. A person's feelings can change very fast, in the space of one look or word. Now I love you, now I hate you, now I'm totally indifferent to you. Boo. Wouldn't something that formed the utter backbone of existence be a little more constant?

Maybe if I was head over heels in love with someone at this moment I'd feel different about this, but then things could change and I'd have to change my mind again.