We live in a world of things, and our only connection with them is that we know how to manipulate or to consume them.
The kind of relatedness to the world may be noble or trivial, but even being related to the basest kind of pattern is immensely preferable to being alone.
A lot of times love doesn’t work out. Yet even when it fails, it connects you to others and, in the end, that is all you have, the connections.