An excerpt from "battlefield lover"

Love is a temporary madness. It explodes like an earthquake and then goes out. When it goes off, you have to make a judgment. You have to figure out whether you and him have become one, so that they cannot be separated. Because this is love. Love is not a sign of Eternal Passion. He is just a "love" state, and each of us can convince ourselves that we are in this state.
When the passion of "love" is burned out, only love itself is left. This is both an art and a lucky accident. Your mother and I have it, and our roots in the ground stretch and tangle with each other. When all the flowers without our comments fade, we find that we have become a tree of trees, instead of two.