I think teen-age love is a great thing. There's nothing quite like it and never will be for the rest of your life.
The young habitually mistake lust for love, they're infested with idealism of all kinds.
Is it, in heav'n, a crime to love too well?
So of course time is necessary. But nevertheless damn painful, for it transforms all the pieces of your life - joy and sorrow, youth and age, love and hate, terror and bliss - from fire into smoke rising up the air and dissipating on a breeze.
A lover tries to stand in well with the pet dog of the house.
For love is sufficient unto love.