What is rare is the willingness to listen. What is rarer is the willingness to understand. With listening comes the desire to understand. With understanding comes respect. A beautiful bond often develops out of such respect between humans, which can rightfully be called love —or at least something close to it. It is apparent I couldn't resist the cynical temptation to not idealise love, but that temptation is much necessary I think as such pure humanity without an ounce of cynicism is too dangerous to oneself. In a way, my inner cynic is the guardian of my inner humanitarian. This I say not as an attempt to glorify my cynic but to notify the sheer vulnerability of my humanitarian. Why guard my weak humanitarian you may ask. Why turn myself into a monster I may answer.