of summer fever and annabiotics
Regarding that peculiar institution you homo saps so reverently refer to as "love", vast libraries can be dedicated. Though my noble and most honorable keeper often references the work of Nick Drake, Patsy Cline and the late Elliot Smith when attempting to grapple with the complexities and vicissitudes of said institution, I, your loyal purveyor of truth and beauty, prefer to cite everyone's favorite opium consuming romantic Samuel Taylor Coleridge. While, no doubt, hunting down albatrosses through some laudanum induced Xanadu, Sammy somehow managed to scribble out:

Sympathy constitutes friendship;
But in love there is a sort of antipathy, or opposing passion. 
Each strives to be the other, and both together make up one whole.

Young Seth (along with all you august denizens of the Orange County-of-the-mind) would do well to heed these three simple yet profound lines of verse, particularly in regards to those two most exquisite young mares, Summer of the flowing dark mane and Anna of the delicate blonde mane. I hesitate at this late hour to commit to an exhaustive exploration of what I have come to refer to as Seth's Dilemma, a conundrum if there ever was one, but for now I suggest meditating on Sam 'slammin' Coleridge's thoughts, particularly his observation that antipathy is intrinsically bound to that "beauteous flower" and where both young Summer and Anna fall on love's multidimensional amorous continuum.