I’ve come to believe that being in love is not something constant. Or at the very least, not something that I am personally capable of doing constantly, regardless of the person. Rather, I experience moments of true love. Moments where I look into the other person’s eyes and feel, just for an instant, like he can open the door to everything I want and need in my life, just by being a part of it. Ten minutes later I might think he’s the most annoying human on the planet, but that’s not to say there won’t be another moment where I feel the same overwhelming affection.
So my curiosities have wandered to what exactly makes a relationship between two people last if these fleeting moments are all of which I’ll ever be capable, in terms of romance. Perhaps I’ll find someone who will make such a long string of these moments that it will seem almost continuous because the gaps become so small. Or perhaps—and this is what I would hope—perhaps I’m wrong. Maybe, when you find the right person, that instantaneous feeling really does become permanent. Maybe there really are feelings so strong and intertwined with fate that they will only happen once, and I just haven’t experienced them yet. Regardless of which it may be, I can’t wait to find it, because those moments are undoubtedly what make my life worth living.