Doris & Mike

I think as you get older your concept of love changes.

It starts off simple. Passion. Chemicals. A fondness for the same things, the same subcultures. 𝘞𝘢𝘯𝘵. Communion. The promise that everything is going to be okay, always.

Now I think it looks more like these two.

Tested with time. Meeting someone that inspires you, perhaps finally and a tad later than you should have, to recognise and commit to working through your shit, cause god knows we all have some and you don’t want to risk it ruining 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. This wonderful thing you’ve found that at long last makes all these love songs, all these films, all these thousands of ships launched to start a war over nothing more than a feeling that swells in you when you look at someone make sense. Passionate, at times. Still, at times. Perhaps waxing and waning but with an ever present undercurrent that says hey, no matter what this is us. Even when it’s difficult, perhaps 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 when its difficult. Because god knows it ain’t always easy, but anything worth a damn rarely is, and what could possibly be worth more than this? It’s saying I see you, in all your splendour and all your frailty and all your contradiction, and I will never stop choosing you, choosing this, choosing us.

Maybe love is all of these things. Maybe it’s none of these things. More likely it exists in a million variations, and changes over space and time and people and culture and age and perspective.

All I know is whatever 𝘪𝘵 is - these two have it, and it’s bloody beautiful to witness.

Enjoy

Dane