She waited for the train to pass. Then she said, “I sometimes think that people’s hearts are like deep wells. Nobody knows what’s at the bottom. All you can do is imagine by what comes floating to the surface every once in a while.
I heard what you said. I’m not the silly romantic you think. I don’t want the heavens or the shooting stars. I don’t want gemstones or gold. I have those things already. I want a steady hand, a kind soul. I want to fall asleep, and wake, knowing my heart is safe.
In the history of the world, no one has done a thing that was not done for love. You must only train yourself to see it—the canny emerald strand that connects a soul to its desire and all the kinks and snarls in it, that might seem as though they tend towards wealth or power, but mean only love me, love me back, love me despite everything.
— Cat Valente, The Habitation of the Blessed (via whoistorule)
Love is hourly, too. There are stories about people who have loved someone forever after laying eyes on them for a few minutes and then nevermore, but these stories have not happened to anyone we know. No, when you love someone you spend hours and hours with them, and even the mightiest forces in the netherworld could not say whether the hours you spend increase your love or if you simply spend more hours with someone as your love increases. And when the love is over, when the diner of love seems closed from the outside, you want all those hours back, along with anything you left at the lover’s house and maybe a couple of things which aren’t technically yours on the grounds that you wasted a portion of your life and those hours have all gone southside. Nobody can make this better, it seems, nothing on the menu. It’s like what the stewardess offers, even in first class. They come with towels, with drinks, mints, but they never say, ‘Here’s the five hours we took from you when you flew across the country to New York to live with your boyfriend and then one day he got in a taxicab and he never came back, and also you flew back, another five hours, to San Francisco, just in time for a catastrophe.’ And so you sit like a spilled drink, those missing hours in you like an ache, and you hear stories that aren’t true and won’t bring anyone back.
We can love someone so deeply, but they may not be the place to invest our lives. On the other hand, just because you can’t invest your life in that person doesn’t mean you shouldn’t or can’t love them. It simply means we understand the extent of what we can invest in our love for them. Love does not automatically render the responsibility and strength needed to uphold a life commitment. Be careful who you give your life to because those days, moments and hours can never be returned but love whomever you please.
No relationship is perfect, ever. There are always some ways you have to bend, to compromise, to give something up in order to gain something greater. The love we have for each other is bigger than these small differences. And that’s the key. It’s like a big pie chart, and the love in a relationship has to be the biggest piece. Love can make up for a lot.