You must dissolve your love in a container. It can be anything: a vial, a glass, or test tube filled with water (or whatever goes down your throat the easiest). You will have to stir it until no trace of it remains — no visible sign of it, no sensation of its grains mixing along with your stirring stick. You must not mix it too quickly; the trick is gradually letting it disappear so that even you will not remember what it looked like at the initial stage.

It will be difficult because love often forms so solidly. It sits like a dense brick upon the chest and takes a while to break apart. You must break it apart — chip away at it slowly until you have broken it down enough to dust or sprinkle into your container. From there, it becomes easier because the powder will not have as much power over you as the solid did. You can blend it away without feeling remorse or regret.

Once the liquid is transparent, you will be in the clear. You can drink your love now. You can swallow it in large, sweeping, comforting gulps without fear. Your love is no longer dangerous to you. Love is safe when it has been diluted and all of the intensity has dispersed into something less concentrated and more amorphous. This is the only form in which you may handle your love. You may never drink your love straight.

All of this said, there is one scenario of which you must be aware. Although it is unlikely that this will happen to you, in rare cases the love does not act as expected. In these cases there is the formation of a precipitate inside the container. The precipitate grows along the walls of the container and clings to them like an embryo instead of fading away as it should. You may attempt to stir this precipitate away, but do not waste your time. If this is the outcome you face, then it is the final result of your experiment. You may aim to throw your container away, but in cases like these, the lover has always been observed to turn the precipitate into a treasured object — to be stored on a damp shelf in a dark room. The love becomes even more powerful in this form — a form in which you may never have it, but it will always have you.