this post kinda comforted me... stolen from deusxmchn

Relationships forever rob you of your inner peace, that relative peace without which you soon realize all is chaos. And yet when you're single, you're willing to give up just about anything and everything for one.

Lost, alone, with no seeming purpose, no raison d'etre, you proclaim your misery in occassional lachrymose outbursts, lamenting your eternal loneliness and deep, painful emptiness of heart, if not constantly complain about having been foresaken by love and doomed to an untoward "singular" fate. Single is ugly. You hear people say it's perfectly okay and so you say it's okay, but inside, you hear quite clearly the cries of deep longing from the depths of an empty, cavernous pit, some lonely place they call heart. You pretend to be preoccupied with trivialities of the day, constantly waiting for the next distraction, but the lonely drive home betrays the pretense and the most trivial action of switching on the bedroom light reveals the emptiness you go home to each night. Morose and melodramatic, isn't it?

Say you then find someone, someone to share that drive home and that lonely bedroom with. You soon find out that the perhaps the drive home to the empty bedroom wasn't in fact lonesome, it was peaceful. It was quiet. It was calm. It was free from the noise and petty ramblings of the mundane world and the restlessness of souls. In that quiet solitude was embedded the peace of mind and heart that may very well be one's final refuge. You think maybe the quiet drive home was a more pleasant routine than a nightly theatrical exchange of hurt and emotions triggered by the frustrations of the day. Perhaps the empty bedroom was far more comforting than this tumultuous hell.