It was funny to think of love as passive, as if you could fall into it like stumbling over a misplaced shoe. Love required work, it didn’t just happen. Like a flower it required tending to, a series of actions to make it beautiful and fulfilled. I’d always thought love just happened and then it just stayed. How wrong I’d been. Dante was right, love was worth fighting for and I’d been fighting for it unwittingly all my life.
