Draw and its Death

It seems to me that relationships inspire people. I have seen it before. Boy meets girl: Girl meets boy: Woman, wooed: Man, pitied. Is this not the stereotypical fantasy awaken in funny bone-pains felt by the penetration of Cupid's arrows? Maybe it's the knight sat up in tin-can armor fallen upon that white horse bridled only by the force of passion or is it the frog tongue-tied and hopeful that there is one princess out there, just one, silly enough to kiss him? Cynical or not, these penetratingly deep affections -commonly referred to as love or passion- persuade men and women to engage in a language game for whatever reason or against it. My point is that “love” drives people to do all kinds of things it doesn't seem they would do on there own.
Honestly, there is a kind of disguised hubris in it all – love binds and blinds all for the sake of freedom and clarity; though, I have seen so many singles turn ga-gas fade into sordid relationships that seem to be anything but freeing and helpful. I have seen friends from all kinds of backgrounds, emotively enlivened, given the courage to “gird up their loins,” as it were, and effect a try-harder attitude because they think that it will make the relationship work. While I think its good that they finally give up their smokes and soaps, too often the exchange brings about nothing more than love stupors and drama.
However contrastingly, it seems that good relationships evoke good initiative and potential, happiness in general and good deeds. I suppose bad relationships could do the same though the effects would eventually die away. Of course, I am taking the liberties of big brushes and lots of paint, but I think this is a fair analysis of loves initial exuberance. This interested-ness of two people in each other drives a good thing forward, even as it acts like a “dam against fornication and lust.” I guess, even this is a bit idealistic given the Sex-god troubles placating the American milieu.
Whatever the case maybe, it seems that the substance of a relationship gives a unique kind of resolve to people involved; maybe its the pressure, maybe the sense of benevolence or concern. Whatever it is, something so terrible happens when and if that relationship falls apart. When a relationship dies it seems easy to embrace a kind of despair so fantastically real that it is as if demons are speaking. With the noise of fall-outs and fracture, divorce and break-offs comes the dissonance of that rhetorically savvy... persuading... feeling of apathy... I suppose other inexpressible emotions are evoked with a kind of damning rise that makes simple tasks more daunting than they have ever been before.
Questions remain: so many questions. I suppose your asking things like: why, what did I do wrong, what was I thinking? This is only natural though it seems to force the nail of failure even deeper. That constant impulse, that itching passion and that insidious draw recklessly leading you here has come full circle and left you in the place where you started.
I am under the conviction that hope has a peculiar and unique tie to God and the Gospel and its here that the pressure to turn of other gods is incredibly real. Affirming that loss has its own kind of good in the mystery of pain seems terribly unhelpful though it seems we have good reason to do just that.