Love is like sex or music or a good book.
It’s all good until you try to do it too much.
Then it turns into a bad habit.
When you find yourself doing it,
say please and thank you, please stop,
please be sure and tell me where the broomstick is, please.
A good love story has a happy ending,
but there’s a good love story with bad
uncertain ending as well.
And like bad sex or bad music or a bad book
you have to trust your instincts.
But your instincts are wrong
almost by the time you realize they are wrong.
Bad sex is a kind of bad love,
bad music is a kind of bad sex,
and a kind of book about bad affection
is kind of a bad book.
You have to read it already.
You have to read and re-read it,
day after day, to make it good.