There is no universally agreed upon definition of love. Love means different things to different people. In fact sometimes love means different things to the same person. Love can sometimes identify itself as an exhilirating feeling that is synonymous to someone that is high on adrenalin. A feeling of madness and craziness. Something that makes you feel on top of the world…invincible…delusional at best.
Then I remember a daughter telling her father that she is unsure whether he loves her or not, because in her 19 years of existence…she has never heard him say to her he loves her. His response was that, he doesn’t have to say it because he shows it by doing his responsibilities for her (i.e., putting a roof over her head, clothing her, feeding her, etc.) He was not doing those out of obligation, but he was doing it out of love.
Does one have to feel high on adrenaline like Romeo’s feelings for Juliet used to make him feel?
What Romeo felt for Juliet does not have to be matched, and possibly will never be matched in this non-fictitious lifetime.
However, one’s love can be simple, quiet, calm and collected kind of love and perhaps its simplicity will prove to be the secret to its longevity…to make it to be a long lasting type.
It can be the kind of love that still has a lot of room for growth and maturity. This on its own means that everyday in the relationship the love grows like an infant. Its bones get stronger by the day…