Love is one of these things humans experience, twist to fit their cage of mortality, and then claim to have invented. I’m not blaming you, far from it. Love was made to be coveted, and humans are nothing if not convinced of their right to take. I don’t even blame you for the jealousy and insecurity; we sent you those viruses ourselves, courtesy of the Fourth Floor. But the way you clutch at love, show it off, lose it and wail, find it again and forget all that you learned the time before—it’s all wrong. To us, you’re like a kid who finds his mom’s vibrator in her dresser and uses it as a
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