Either they know what we go through when we are in love, in which case their callousness in not warning and helping us through it is inexcusable; or they have never felt what we feel, and we have every right to call them dead.

I'm quite mad, aren't I? Not to mention cryptic.
Simplify, they say. Go say that to my life. I want to see the sneer on her face when you do. (I have to say 'her' 'coz there's no way life could be so incredibly bitchy otherwise.)