Because

[rowens]

I’m not being funny,
I’m not laughing.
You don’t hear me telling a joke.

There’s no tongue in my cheek,
and I’m only alluding to that for your benefit.
Although I think it’s a stupid thing to say.

People that really love don’t have to say anything.
People that are loved in return don’t ever have to listen.
Despite what’s now a popular thing to believe,
there is a force called Love that’s sacred and binding.
It has nothing to do with what a person says or how they act
or even how they feel.

Love has little to do with emotions, and nothing to do with logic.
It has nothing to do with God, or money, or children, or even sex.
But love encompasses everything, causes everything, sustains everything,
even hate; especially hate.

Every man doesn’t kill the things he loves, there’s nothing witty
about tragedy.
And there’s nothing tragic about death.
It’s the life that comes before death,
and all the things a man loves that feel tragic even in his happiest moments.
Because those worthless things won’t last;
even when they last as long as anything possibly can.
They still don’t last forever.
Nor do they want to.

For all those reasons, and more,
he can’t forgive them.
And until he can forgive them, as long as he lives,
he’s trapped in the long, humanly un-tragic, and mundane task
of loving.

And nobody has that much time and energy to spare.