Love is not a permanent vacation home along the
shore; instead it is the ocean’s tide. That shit rolls up quite lovely, and you
can lay around on the beach, and maybe the tide is high and you get yourself a
vacation home to bask in the loveliness of it, but it’s an ebb and flow, and
the moon gonna pull that shit back out at some point, and that home ain’t gonna
be home no more. Non-traditional relationships make more sense because nothing
is permanent, and no one person can really fulfill another one person’s every
emotional need from now until the end. I think the old way (which is not really
traditional in “way way back” sense but traditional in the common shit since
western hegemony of culture) is to just grin and bear it, or work at it, or
just plain suffer, as most women did in patriarchal arrangements, and to be
honest, a lot of men probably did too. It’s a one-size-fits-all that don’t fit
nobody.
And yet, chasing love is so much fun, whether you’re
14 or 45… getting googly eyes and tingle belly over somebody, feeling that tide
roll in, warm cleansing waters of love. It might recede twenty years from now,
it might recede next Tuesday… just gotta enjoy the moment.
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