“Is it true love?”
Of course my mother would ask me a question like that. And of course, I wouldn’t hesitate to respond, “Yes. Of course it’s true love.”
Because it is. I resent the implication that at some point I have given love that was false. Fake love. No, I don’t do that. All the love I give is true. It’s real. I mean it when I love someone. Even if love fades, or it explodes, or it gets lost in the mix of things – that kind of thing happens. And it’s ok. Just because love doesn’t endure through all of time and space doesn’t mean that it’s fake or even less valuable. It just means that it had a short, perhaps tragic, life span.
But I know that’s not what my mother means. What my mother means is: are you going to put effort into making sure that this love doesn’t die at the first wayward glance? Which: none of her business! My heart is full of fleas and fluff, and if it turns out that I’m emotionally incapable of maintaining a relationship til the day I die – well, I think she should be more concerned about how that reflects poorly on her. If I continue to waffle in and out of my relationships, that’s my decision.
That being said, yes, of course I’m going to put effort into making this shit work. You know why? Because I said I was going to. And, sure, all that mumbo jumbo about uniting souls to eternity was kinda scary (and honestly surprising – I did not know that marriage was *that* serious, but it was kinda too late to be like, “Huh, what? I’m promising to do what now?!” as I was standing on the altar in that super tight white dress and those pink high heels with all my friends sitting there watching me), but this is an ego thing for me. Maybe getting married was impulsive, but, guys, I have an ego that I need to maintain here. And, speaking of ego, I need to go double check those vows because I’m pretty sure I didn’t commit to not fucking around in front of God, although, I don’t believe in God, but, y’know, just in case.
So, from here to eternity, baby! In the most casual, low effort way possible.