This past weekend, I watched the movie Candy with my closest confidant Theodora. The movie, which if you haven't seen is an undeniable flick that will leave you breathless, shows us Dan and Candy, fearlessly in love and hopelessly addicted to heroin. The twos misadventure can be put so neatly into the words of Fitzgerald, "Helen whom he had loved so until they had senselessly began to abuse each other's love, tear it to shreds." The movie is breathtaking, but chilling, and made me wonder... at what point is love more of a hinderance on our bodies and souls than it is a benefit, and can those desperately attempting to hang onto their love ever admit that it is their affections, in fact, that are tearing them apart? When and how can we admit that love is not always the answer?