Frustration

Why do we love something temporary? Does being uncertain adds to its value? How can something so fragile be loved? Does knowing how its beauty will rot gives us ecstasy? All those pictures and videos have we ever rewatch them? It was only for comfort isn't it? The comfort that we could rewatch those memories But it'll only does the opposite It gave use discomfort What anguish it brings when we looked back at it Are we all masochists? Negligence of how destructive traumas can be How heartbreaks are heal with time How memories or our past should be buried? Led to the term masochist to be only limited to the physical realm Are we too embarassed to broaden its definition? Or are we in denial?