Being the romantic type, I have been in love many times in my life. As life goes, most have ended in one way or another. The greatest of them was Precious. Not just that this love was the most recent, but because it was very different than the others. A new level. A new connection. A new reality. Several new fantasies. It changed me as a person. It changed the way I think and act.
It was beyond problems. It was what all others dream of having. A connection that has been between us for thousands of years.
The more one gives of themselves, the more risk of eventual pain proportionate to the level of yourself given. Looking back, the thought of being hurt, never occurred to me. We were beyond pain.
(One of the side effects of love is poor perception and reasoning skills when related to your love interest.)
This is probably how I missed that something was wrong. The connection we had...the dream I thought we were...had been misplaced. Problems. What I thought we were, was no longer. Lost in a moving box perhaps, not yet unpacked.
Love changes. It grows and thrives. It withers and dies. It's seldom dull and often painful, sometimes misplaced. Worth the chance, every time. For the greatest of loves, it's worth living in a bit of pain if it means finding us again.