"You say they create their own reality," said Veronika, "but what is reality?" - Paulo Coelho

Don't think about what you've left behind, the alchemist said to the boy as they began to ride across the sands of the desert. "Everything is written in the Soul of the World, and there it will stay forever."

We were born alone and we will die alone. But, while we are on this planet, we must accept and glorify our act of faith through other people.

We love men because they can never fake orgasms, even if they wanted to.

Because they write poems, songs, and books in our honor.

Because they never understand us, but they never give up.

Because they can see beauty in women when women have long ceased to see any beauty in themselves.

Because they come from little boys.

Because they can churn out long, intricate, Machiavellian, or incredibly complex mathematics and physics equations, but they can be comparably clueless when it comes to women.

Because they are incredible lovers and never rest until we’re happy.

Because they elevate sports to religion.

Because they’re never afraid of the dark.

Because they don’t care how they look or if they age.

Because they persevere in making and repairing things beyond their abilities, with the naïve self-assurance of the teenage boy who knew everything.

Because they never wear or dream of wearing high heels.

Because they’re always ready for sex.

Because they’re like pomegranates: lots of inedible parts, but the juicy seeds are incredibly tasty and succulent and usually exceed your expectations.

Because they’re afraid to go bald.

Because you always know what they think and they always mean what they say.

Because they love machines, tools, and implements with the same ferocity women love jewelry.

Because they go to great lengths to hide, unsuccessfully, that they are frail and human.

Because they either speak too much or not at all to that end.

Because they always finish the food on their plate.

Because they are brave in front of insects and mice.

Because a well-spoken four-year old girl can reduce them to silence, and a beautiful 25-year old can reduce them to slobbering idiots.

Because they want to be either omnivorous or ascetic, warriors or lovers, artists or generals, but nothing in-between.

Because for them there’s no such thing as too much adrenaline.

Because when all is said and done, they can’t live without us, no matter how hard they try.

Because