There is, happily, one final lesson to be noted, thanks to my lovely puppy, and that is the lesson of love.
People always talk about love in terms of the ‘perfect relationship’ and how much work it all takes or the sacrifice, and I realize now, that all of those claims are completely false. Love is… utterly effortless. It happens and feels exactly the same way that water quenches ones thirst. Maybe when ‘love’ takes so much effort, so much sacrifice, it’s a signal to you that it’s not any sort of love at all.
There is no love to be had when you live half way, when priority revolves around different spheres and foci, when each other is a burden or something to be trained, molded, or where common moments are simply endured.
What does take effort, is the resolve to hold certain things sacred; a certain agreement of priority, the simple and mutual hierarchy of what really matters. Time together means exactly that; it’s our time together. We don’t talk about other things, or places, or the stuff that bogs us down. We make love. We enjoy smelling the air together. We play together. The moments we have are, simply and completely, ours. We make our own music, we dance to our own rhythms, the beating of our own drums. No one else exists here.