We all love the broken and lonely for all the wrong reasons.
It’s almost like finding yourself fascinated on a crumbling remnant of an antique delicate vase, the unspoken promise of vanished beauty entices you. Or maybe it’s because they are what we believe we’ll never be. Or maybe because it’s in our nature to capture unloved territories. Or maybe because we believe we can fix them all up into their former selves and claim that restoration as our accomplishment.
Maybe we just love ourselves more than we love their brokenness.