The past few months have marked major milestones for my friends and their relationships. Some of them got engaged, some have been preoccupied with wedding preparations, while others decided to take some time off and find themselves again. Conversations nowadays are becoming more and more about things only grown ups used to talk about. Some of my guy friends mull about their anticipation in starting a family and building houses, their fears about the uncertainty of investments or lack of decent savings. With the girls, among a million other things we analyze, we often get stuck debating when the best time is to get married, if there ever is a best time.
K & I celebrated our own milestone too, having reached our first year mark a few weeks ago. There's been a lot to be grateful for. It’s amazing how I am able to laugh and rant and discuss anything and everything with him, or just sit back in silence and get lost in my thoughts; the comfort I find in those opposite moments stays the same. If you find that person who can revel in your spoken and unspoken muses, you must say a prayer of thanks.
Here’s a piece I lifted off my friend’s blog, which we took up not too long ago in Theology 131. I had a hard time understanding what it meant at the time, but now I think I finally get the point.
Love is a temporary madness,
it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides.
And when it subsides you have to make a decision.
You have to work out whether your roots have 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 eternal passion.
That is just being "in love" which any fool can do.
Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away,
and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.
Those that truly love have roots that grow towards each other underground,
and when all the pretty blossoms have fallen from their branches,
they find that they are one tree and not two.
From Captain Corelli's Mandolin
by Louis de Bernière