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Each day, I bury the version of me who loved less. Enthralled by my own becoming, I have fallen out of love countless times into new love. I savour each moment spent amidst my anointment towards higher values, and I ask, is love worthy of me? The idol of love is tantalizing, patient and kind, it does not envy, it does not boast – love is erotic and sensual still, it yearns and longs for the lives of others. Love is deeply human, and in its humanity can become. It haunts us, begets us, spurns us, and yet I do believe it is worthy of me, sweet Sappho would agree… Each day, I bury the version of me who loved less.