Love is not love.

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove.

O no! It is an ever-fixed mark,

That looks on tempests and is never shaken.

Because it’s the day for it; because we’ve all been there; because sometimes, just sometimes, it’s worth forgetting everything else and concentrating on what really matters. At the beginning, at the end and right in the middle.