“Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for.”― Epicurus
Let me let you in on a juicy little secret worth all the squeeze - desire needs space. The more space you give it, the higher its chance of survival. Desire loves novelty, mystery, excitement and unpredictability - all the things you're forced to trade when you choose to cohabit with your lover.
Wanna keep having mind blowing sex? Don’t move in together. Desire resents the fuck out of familiarity. Why? There’s 2 whys. First one - because hedonic adaptation. Second why - because nothing brings boredom quicker to the table than familiarity does.
Now before you come at me with the “but we have kids” or “It’s not viable financially” or “I want to get married and start a family” , look I hear you. Everyone is entitled to their own life choices. I’m just sharing an alternative way of doing things that is clearly way too underrated and that is packed with benefits. You do you boo.
The data doesn’t lie - your mind high on too much fantasy like supply does. Romance has a very short lifespan, that is why the butterflies and the weak knees give way to comfort before you know it a.k.a no longer holding them farts in. Ah, passion surely hates that.
We place higher value on things we are scared of losing. Marriage naturally takes that anxiety away. Sure, the relief is fun and all, but it comes with one big downside - accidentally taking for granted the person we share a living space with. In the absence of daily gratitude and appreciation, love takes a fucking hit.
Time is our enemy, especially in the love department. Forever looks appealing on paper, but its application in the real world paints a completely different story. Just like years eat away at our youth, they also tend to make us willingly or not - jump on the laziness wagon in our love life. Unfortunately, living with someone only jump starts that process. Ever known a long-married couple having crazy wild sex on the regular? Yeah, me neither. The cold hard truth always hurts, but it’s the only way out.
Comfort is dangerous in that it makes us extremely prone to stop being the person our partner initially fell in love with. I have a ring on my finger now watch me pack on the pounds, stop taking care of myself, stop having sex with you, and throw some hissy fits while at it. Sure, there’s still an exit door, but it’s way more difficult to pull it when the government is up your ass. Wanna prevent the butterflies from dying out? Sleep in your own bed at night. Trust me when I tell you it’ll make the fireworks burn brighter and longer.