Love, work, letting things wait
Apr. 7th, 2004 11:43 amThose who already read
theferret can just ignore this entry. I'm linking to him again!
Love isn't just some ephemeral thing that forms spontaneously and then ticks forever like a perpetual motion machine. Ideally, love makes your life a lot better - I know that I'm a lot happier because of Gini - but it's very rare that two people just click once and never have to talk again. Love, like any other worthwhile thing, involves maintenance.
But nobody writes love songs about maintenance. There are no odes to grouting, or paeans to weekly lawn care. Everyone wants to believe in the effort-free love, because it sure would be nice if it existed, but there ain't no such thing as a free lunch.
Life is work. Anyone who tells you different is selling you an album..
(Y'know, now I really want someone to write a love song about maintenance.)
And, the addendum, sparked by a comment from his wife
zoethe, You need to emphasize, though, that there are times when you visit an issue, realize that both of you are too far apart to resolve it at that point, and let it rest for a while so that one small thing does not get blown out of proportion to the detriment of the rest of the relationship. That was one of the great balancing acts for the two of us - finding the sweet spot between your 'everything must be resolved at once!' and my 'here's a nice rug to sweep it under.'
Love isn't just some ephemeral thing that forms spontaneously and then ticks forever like a perpetual motion machine. Ideally, love makes your life a lot better - I know that I'm a lot happier because of Gini - but it's very rare that two people just click once and never have to talk again. Love, like any other worthwhile thing, involves maintenance.
But nobody writes love songs about maintenance. There are no odes to grouting, or paeans to weekly lawn care. Everyone wants to believe in the effort-free love, because it sure would be nice if it existed, but there ain't no such thing as a free lunch.
Life is work. Anyone who tells you different is selling you an album..
(Y'know, now I really want someone to write a love song about maintenance.)
And, the addendum, sparked by a comment from his wife