How it can morph into ever-evolving forms. How it sometimes seems obligatory. Like the grudging fondness for a family member that, if they weren't related to you, you probably wouldn't talk to.
Or the love you feel for someone you are dating that can feel so intense and so real and then suddenly you wake up and realize you hate the way they breathe.
I loved my friend Kim until I hated her. Love turned to hate. Not overnight or anything but it happened. She disgusts and repulses me but I have these fond memories of her that form a sticky awkward residue in my confused heart.
Love is supposed to be all-powerful, everlasting. It's not. It's just like water or dirt. It can freeze and shatter and crack and cake up.
I worry about this a lot. I worry about how my love for others will change.
I worry about me being able to give love back a lot more than I worry about whether or not I will be loved enough. I wonder if that is normal.