Every romantic relationship is exciting at its beginning. Almost every emotion is amplified—eagerness, desire, anxiety, enthusiasm, passion, what-have-you. It`s almost as if relationships start at their climax. Eventually, though, the new morphs into the comfortable, and the comfortable evolves into the habit. It`s not that we get weary, rather we become accustomed. The irregular pounding heartbeat gradually changes into the steady rise and fall of the chest, the faint thud of a consistent pulse.

We may do new things, and add a fair amount of items in the lists of firsts together, but the temporary intoxication from the spontaneity is merely a shadow of what once was an inexplicable high.

This may not be taken entirely in negative light. After all, the comfortable is… well… comfortable. The dependability of a long term relationship is convenient. The familiarity with each other`s likes, dislikes, embrace, touch, scent, kiss, fears, ambitions, and everything in between develops into some sort of sixth sense that it seeps into how we run our daily lives. The familiarity we share with our partners is somehow second nature.

More so, it is not only the familiarity that is second nature, but the attachment as well. The attachment is so second nature, in fact, that the strings we tie to each other slowly become invisible among the weaves that bind us to the web we managed to entangle ourselves in with each other`s family and friends, where we as partners are considered a unit rather than two individuals.

How, then, in the midst of all this stability do we introduce variety? At which point in our relationship does monogamy become monotony? And when do we get pushed to expend security for a satisfied curiosity?

No comments

Post a Comment

© Mahilig
Design:Maira Gall.