Love is a funny thing. We celebrate it when it begins.  We write books and screenplays about when it starts. When it’s new and exciting, we write songs.  We have butterflies in our stomach and everything is that much gentler.  We slow dance in the rain and make grand gestures, we are mostly blind to everything and helpless in our infatuation. It`s terrifying and beautiful and wonderful. And it doesn`t last. Because we stop celebrating love when it`s comfortable. Songs aren`t composed about the 2nd decade of marriage.  There`s no ballad of the dirty hair and sweatpants Saturday, mowing the lawn and washing the toilets.   No one is making a movie where the climax is finding the Lego piece that was absolutely irreplaceable amongst all the dried food and dog hair in the vacuum bag.  There`s no short story about  the time when you realize the fight you had in the morning isn`t even worth making up over because you both forgot you were mad at each other by bedtime. But the truth is, anyone can fall in love. There’s no sacrifice in falling in love.  You aren’t giving anything to your lover by becoming infatuated with them.  When two people fall in love with each other, it is inherently selfish. You need them, and you want to spend time with them. For the most part, falling in love is not a choice and it is almost entirely about you.  I can still remember the 18 year old kids, music blasting out of our car, dancing in the parking lot of a park at midnight.  He’s already been gone for 3 months at Basic…