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There's the kind of love that you dream about as a kid - the kind where you're so wrapped up in the other person that it threatens to absorb you, your beloved can and does move mountains for you, the only wish for each of you is to see the other be happy...
and then there's the kind that you think about as an adult - a companion, someone who doesn't piss you off too badly, someone who doesn't embarrass you in public, someone who may not be everything you dreamed about as a kid, but with whom you can live...

How lucky am I that I got the former? And having lived through the latter, I can really appreciate it?