Out of love, people change. Haircutting and eating habits. Toothpaste and dating.
Out of love, people outdo themselves. Always primed, never satiated. They may not often jump from a bridge, but that is understandable; this kind of behavior is not really aphrodisiac in itself.
Sometimes women saw Penelope (and men saw it too). Waiting for hours on their M6 sofa, a York-Shire on their knees and a cigarette in their mouths. Love makes you patient. Until a certain point.
It also happens that love causes amnesia. Lovers can forget where they come from. They deny others to devote themselves to the maintenance of this happiness not so small as that.
Some put themselves in R n ‘B in its contemporary form to proclaim their passion with great reinforcement of silliness and obscene innuendo. But when a lover starts pushing the song, the lamentations are never far away.
Love can make you sick. Make lose weight until they melt into nothingness.
Or gain weight. Accept this famous routine because, with the one or the one we love, the routine is to achieve the tranquility to which ordinary people aspire.
But love can also shake people up. Have them change country. Rarely on the continent.
In love, many pretend. They hide. Are exposed. Start over. Until the nerves let go. Then they end it all. Before diving again. Again.
