"To me, love is like rowing a boat together down the river of life. In the beginning, you are young and strong, and you find someone who enjoys the same kind of boat as you do and agrees on the river and number of passengers. Your biggest challenge is/should be finding a good rhythm. If it doesn't always work, it's all giggles. You test each other naturally, if one has a cold or a weak time, will the other row by themselves, will they stop rowing to take care of you, will they scold you?
Finally, you might decide to row together permanently, possibly add little passengers. Something changes there, the permanence makes you very aware that this person's left weak arm will likely mean you have to be strong on the left for all your life. The little passengers add dead weight in the beginning, no one can just not row and rest for a long time. So you bicker and often turn in circles as you do so.
And the river is long, sometimes there is white water and no one is having fun, trying to stay afloat, no time to talk. Sometimes there are big rocks, that might just break your boat. Sometimes the water is perfectly still, you won't move on your own, and all you can do is look at each other. And row. And enjoy the quiet together. Sometimes one is sick and weak, and you have to row on your own, if you do this long enough you get tired and resentful, but if you love, you row the other person still. Sometimes one or both lose an oar, and you turn in circles until you communicate well.
And hopefully someday you reach the ocean together and can laugh and
relax and enjoy the sunshine. But some boats sink. Some people jump ship
and hope to find a more cooperative rower. But knowing you have to row
regardless, sometimes it's easier to row together."
Listening: "Boat Behind"
by Kings Of Convenience