Pelgris

Love that is comfortable is a love that is too easy
It is merely comfort
Love that is real always feels a bit uneasy
It should be growing
Changing
And growth, change are always uncomfortable
Like new skin
Without that feeling
Love sits on its laurels
It stagnates
And stagnation leads to the death of love
Let love ride uneasy
Let it be uncomfortable
Let it prompt change
Let it prompt growth
Or else
Prepare yourself for its loss