"Why?" is a very big question.

Short answer? Nobody knows. Long answer? Love.

Although the second of the two answers is both phonetically and alphabetically shorter, the concept is bigger than any of us can contain.
Many a man and woman has spent years of their lives seeking love, ruminating on it, meditating on it, agonizing over it...
And yet only a few ever dare define it in concrete terms. All of them, those with some sense anyway, also admit they may be wrong shortly afterward.

I don't mean your parents' love, or their parents' love. I mean Aristotle's love, Éliphas Lévi's love, hell, even Stephen King's love. The esoteric concept of attraction at a level we cannot bear to understand, much less carry the burden of that knowledge all of our short lives. We can only guess at it, children poking sticks at a jellyfish washed up on a beach, curious as to what it is and likely to get stung for our efforts.

I take my guess here, as the answer to "Why?". I assert that love is not simple, not merely chemical, not psychological or firmly in the realm of measurable science. Philosophers, theosophers, bullshit artists and con-men; None can quantify love any more than scientists can define the soul. They may make blind gestures, and throw out bags of euphemisms at the feet of their audiences... But none can truly define it. Only say what it is like but better than.

Love is not ice cream, sex, or posessions. Love is no more these things than it is violence, tenebrousness or a monster lurking in the dark. But all of these things have in common one factor... They're attracted to something. Attraction, not lust or want or urge. Attraction is the bond that holds us together, binds our lives, cradles our atoms in place and fills the cracks of reality. Even in despair and betrayal, we'll still love even those we are hateful to, all the time massaging our own egos. Why? I don't know, but I hope to find out.

That is what this page is about. Eventually, we may even take enough blind stabs in the dark to answer the question, that is if we even remember we asked it.

Something binds the visible gaps of reality and the immortal soul, there are holes left unfilled in the wake of our experiences and traumas we cary always. I believe that through learning, never ceasing to see new things and find new places, we may someday come to know. With time and love, perhaps even understand.

The beginning, staggering blindly.

"It is that the true Love binds himself not to the beauty which passes away; beauty for him is eternal, and can escape him never, since he is strong enough to create her. The sage loves not a woman because she is beautiful; he holds her beautiful because he loves her, and because he has good reason to love her." -- Éliphas Lévi


But then, I may be wrong.