Romantic love is painful.

In the words of will.i.am, “Romantic love is painful.” At first, these words may seem harsh, like a shadow cast upon the brightness of the heart. Yet if we look deeper, we see they carry the ancient wisdom that all things of great worth are bound with both joy and suffering. For romantic love is no shallow pleasure; it is a fire that consumes, a river that floods, a storm that both gives life and tears apart. To open the heart to love is to open it also to vulnerability, and where there is vulnerability, there will surely be pain.

The ancients knew this truth well. In the myths of Greece, Eros—the god of love—was armed with arrows that pierced not only the body but the very soul. Those struck by his shafts were filled with longing that could uplift or destroy. To be touched by love was to be both blessed and wounded, for love is not tame—it is a wild force, ungoverned by reason, as capable of leading men to greatness as it is of driving them into despair. Thus, when will.i.am speaks of romantic love as painful, he is not cursing it, but naming its double-edged nature.

Consider the story of Antony and Cleopatra. Their passion bound together two of the greatest powers of the ancient world, yet it also brought ruin to both. The flame of their romantic love burned so brightly that it consumed empires. Their end was tragic, but within that tragedy lay the proof that love can exalt the soul even as it breaks it. Their names are remembered not because their union was safe or easy, but because it was vast, dangerous, and yes—painful. This is the paradox: what wounds the heart most deeply is often what gives it its greatest glory.

But why is romantic love so bound to suffering? Because it demands surrender. To love another is to hand over a piece of one’s soul, to risk rejection, loss, betrayal, or even the slow ache of time itself. The closer we draw to another, the more we fear the tearing away. Love makes us mortal, reminding us of how fragile we are, how fleeting is every embrace. Without love, one may live safely, but one also lives in shadow; with love, one lives fully, but walks ever close to the cliff’s edge.

The lesson is not to flee from love, nor to scorn it. For though pain accompanies it, the suffering refines the soul, just as fire refines gold. In the ache of longing, we learn patience; in heartbreak, we learn resilience; in the grief of loss, we learn the value of every fleeting moment of joy. Romantic love is the crucible in which the heart is tested, and though the trial is fierce, the reward is wisdom, compassion, and the memory of having lived not shallowly, but deeply.

So what must we do? We must not run from painful love, nor curse its wounds, but embrace them as proof of the depth of our humanity. Love with courage, knowing that suffering will come, but trusting that the joy will outweigh the sorrow. When love breaks you, let it teach you. When it uplifts you, let it humble you. Do not seek a life without pain, for such a life is also without love—and to be without love is the truest tragedy of all.

Therefore, take this as your path: love bravely, endure the pain, and rise renewed. Let your heart be open, though it be wounded a thousand times, for in the scars of love lies the map of a life fully lived. And when others despair at the pain of love, remind them gently: it is the very weight of its sorrow that proves its worth, for only what matters deeply can wound so deeply.