Love is such a fickle state of affairs. In the beginning, you do everything you can to give your loved one the world. In the beginning, she recognizes and truly appreciates your Herculean effort.
Then, the world isn't enough for her. Your beautiful object of your life-long affection wants the solar system as well. So off you go, doing your very best to make her happy. With your superhuman capacity fueled by your undying love, you give this love of your life her solar system.
By now, she believes that you can give her any and all of her heart’s desires -- no matter how ridiculous. When the solar system isn't enough, she wants a galaxy! With your last breath, you present her with a brilliantly beautiful galactic offering.
Only then as she demands -- not gently, sweetly requests but impatiently demands -- the universe, only then do you realize what your relationship has become. Life-draining, one-sided relationships should be the fate of a death-row prisoner's life, not the fate of your's.
How could this happen? Are you intelligent? As if Love was about intelligence. No, you missed the clues in the beginning. At first, she would softly coo, "I love you." Then, slowly, imperceptibly, these three words that first melted your heart and caused you to devote your life to your lover, these three words horribly changed from a statement of affection and became a prelude for demands. “I love you … to change some of your adorable habits." “I love you … to give up things that you enjoy doing." “I love you … never to talk about your day and always completely listen to my ramblings."
Love is a fickle state of affairs. Especially when you compare the hopes of its beginning to the realities of its end, and the unforeseen torturous twists in its middle.
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