What a beautiful meditation on love! I particularly enjoyed the image of Romeo leaving his socks in a pile in a corner of the bedroom. Grown-up love looks nothing like we imagined it would when we were young. I think a lot of that disillusion comes from how obsessed society is with focusing on FALLING in love, not BEING in love. The butterflies and swooning and moonlight walks are super fun, and it's easy to assume when those things fade that love has faded as well. Nobody ever wrote a power ballad about laundry. But it's the day to day abnegation of the self that makes love last. It's not sexy or flashy or ode-worthy, but it is true. And touching on what @luegenbaron said about growing up, it really is a hallmark of adulthood when we can learn to see others' needs before our own. The tricky bit is to maintain a healthy sense of self in the midst of all that.
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Right, now I want a power ballad about laundry!!! Hilarious, just the thought if it... cue loud guitars and declarations of 'You are the best at sorting whites from colours, but please bring it in when you get home or it wont dry by the morning' 🎵🎶🎼🎸🎸🎸
I bloody LOVE a Saturday morning where we put on some reggae and tidy up together... takes us an hour. Sometimes he grabs me and dances me around the kitchen to a fave tune. 17 years together and THAT is love and I adore it. And yeah, we get butterflies sometimes still. We always knew a relationship took work and was more than lust, and I couldn't be happier. Sometimes I love him too much, sometimes I want to run away and not see him for, well, at least a few hours lol.
But i love the universe too. He isnt the only one in it.
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We could write a whole album! Love songs for housework!
I love cleaning with music on too, but I do it alone.
I think you hit on the crux of the question in your last line here. Love someone as hard as you can, but love others too. When the object of your love becomes the only thing in the universe, it gives that person too much power and the tunnel vision is blinding. It's not that you love too much, it's that the love is concentrated on too small a sample.