I had thought of love as a taut chain with a tight clasp that carried our weight as we clutched one another, no matter what dragged any of us down. I had believed that when I love someone, I should hold on regardless of what else I have to give up in order to keep them. The more one gives up, the greater the love, I thought. To love someone well was to perform perfection for them, and to be loved well was for them to perform perfection for me. But that is not true love. That is self-abandonment masquerading as love.
