Whenever it starts, it's the right time & when it's over, it's over.

'...love was not an extension of public life but it's antithesis. It meant a longing to put himself at the mercy of his partner. He who gives himself up like a prisoner of war must give up his weapons as well. And deprived in advance of defense against a possible blow, he cannot help wondering when the blow will fall. That is why I can say that for Franz, love meant the constant expectation of a blow.'

-Milan Kundera

'The Unbearable Lightness of Being'

pg. 87