Creating love looks like forfeiting the carefree days of youth for the careful responsibilities of adulthood. Creating love looks like worries about money and teething and tantrums and a job you don't enjoy and a worn-down house and sewing patches (again) on torn jeans because darnit if those kids don’t go through clothes faster than you can keep them on their backs. Creating love looks like long days and long nights–many good, some bad, but all of them coming at you full force, one after the other, each demanding as much of your scrupulous energy and attention as the last. Creating love looks heavy, and it looks tired. But it always looks forward. And it always looks beyond itself.
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