Lillian Summers' romance novels: Love, actually

We begin by loving the sound of our mother’s voice while we are in her womb. Next, we grow to love her face, and that of our father. Siblings, childhood friends, extended family - they all get a slice of our love as we grow up. A love that comes and goes, replaced by new feelings driven by new interests.

We do have, however, a lifelong romance: the love of oneself. For many, that is, indisputably, the strongest emotional element they will ever experience. A fewer (yet significant) number of people will, at some point in time, feel the magic of loving their life partner. When that happens, everything they know about romance from books, family or other people’s experiences becomes pale compared to what they feel right then and there. Words become caresses; kisses stop speech when words become superfluous; cuddles are heart-stoppers; love-making is the ultimate fusion. Then comes the real trial, that of facing life together. That goes far beyond physical closeness; it entails commitment, harmony and companionship, understanding and acceptance. More often than not, love doesn’t withstand these tests. It succeeds at some, but it’s sufficient to fail at just one, and it will crumble. Many try to piece it back together, but few understand that if one or more elements are missing, there was no love in the first place. A compulsive desire to own a personal fairy tale doesn’t represent the foundation for love.

True love is an exclusive bond of trust and fidelity. It gives the ability to be lover and best friend equally. It holds the connotation of being a soul mate bond. But most importantly, it withstands the challenge of time.

For those who experience joy and happiness, time is too short, as it is too long for those who grieve and suffer. For those who wait, it is too slow, as it is too swift for those who fear. But for those who truly love, time is blessed eternity.

I look forward to spending my eternity at your side, my love.