Where does love go when it's not returned?
Does it eventually fade away, becoming lost to the annals of time like a sock becomes lost in the dryer?
Or does it continue to grow exponentially forever, a constant source of torture for the foolish soul who had been unfortunate enough to experience it?
Why? That was the singular word posed in the form of a question that everyone always had. But there was no answer.
There was never going to be an answer.
