Growing up, I was the champion of spiders and moths in my house, catching and releasing them for my mother at great personal risk.

It wasn’t just her beauty. It was the attitude in her smile, the tilt of her head, and the loving look in her eyes when she caught me sneaking a peek down her shirt.

This guy was beyond lucky. He was Midas with a better attorney, or the owner of a Monkey’s Paw version 2.0, or Richard Cory on Prozac.

In real life, love and hate are often only separable if we’re willing to recognize our demons and choose to become better people.