"Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being 'in love' which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two."
~from Corelli's Mandolin by Louis de Berniéres~
There is nothing accidental about love though there is an art to loving!
ReplyDeleteAgreed that nothing about love is an accident, but I think to an unbeliever who experiences true love, it may seem that way. Just a thought.
DeleteThis is gorgeous.
ReplyDeleteI feel satisfied after reading it.
Thank you for sharing :)
Right? That last line--"we found that we were one tree and not two"--it just does something to you, doesn't it?
DeleteWait a second...Dad?? Who let him on a computer?? Man, I have been off this thing for too long.
ReplyDeleteAlso I feel like trees are a more accurate way to describe love than most things.
He has his own laptop and everything. He's such a techie.
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