It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is.
Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being in love which any of us can convince ourselves we are.
Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.
Love is a short-lived crazy phenomenon
, like an earthquake, it
subsides after the shock. After subsidence, you have to make a judgment
to determine whether the two of you are really Connecting the branches, the
roots , they can't be torn apart, they can't be separated
because... that's love.
Love is not excitement, not impulsive, not the next day's intercourse,
not tossing and turning every night, longing for him to kiss you all over your body
That's love, not love,
love is fascinated
and when the fire burns out...
what's left, that's love
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