Love is not the Breathlessness...

Love is not the breathlessness,
it is not the excitement,
it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion,
it is not the desire to mate every second minute of the day,
and it is not lying in bed imagining that he is kissing every cranny of your body.
No, don’t blush, I am telling you some truths.
That is just being ‘in love’.
Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away.
Your mother had it,
we had roots which grew towards each other under the ground,
and when the pretty blossom had fallen from the branches we found that we were one tree,
not two.

from Patron Saint