Love never dies of a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source, it dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illnesses and wounds, it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings, but never of natural death.
Isn’t that a great quote?
I stumbled onto this quote the other day and it made me think.
I think she’s right and I think it applies to friendships, too. It takes work to maintain friendships, even those that seem effortless after weeks or months without communicating. I know I’ve deliberately allowed friendships to wither on the vine because most people don’t understand my schedule. I’d rather be writing than anything else. When people tell me I need a break, I just smile. They don’t understand that I’m my most authentic self when I’m writing. Maybe that comes from years of being forced to do something else for a living.