FORGIVE me for talking about love—-I feel obligated to. I did ponder, though, on the relevance of some-one over-the-hill talking about love. Who cares what I think? I am past my prime. But I have space to fill.

It’s been a while, I guess. Some of my readers have told me that while they enjoy reading my columns on various topics, they enjoy the most my columns on love and relationships. So why have I stopped? Well, I could tell you a boatload of lies but I’m not really capable of lying—-so I’ll tell you the truth. I stopped because, well—-I ran out of material.

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I stopped falling in love.

And is that good or bad? Well, I guess it depends whose opinion you ask. For me, it hasn’t been good or bad. It’s just been different—-and in a good way, I think. It’s been a more peaceful ride. You know—-a lot less drama in my life.

Do I miss falling in love? Well—-it’s falling out of love that I actually miss. I wrote some of my best stuff when I was all broken up inside. Like all artists, I thrive on angst. A rocky relationship presents myriad possibilities. But a broken up one presents perfect insight and angst—-formula for a masterpiece.

Is love overrated? I wouldn’t say that. Valentine’s Day, perhaps. But love? Oh no.

I still believe in the power of love—-and its ability to transform people. From where I stand, though, love takes on a very different dimension. Yup. Definitions, I realize now, do change over time.

Not that I’ve always been able to define love with accuracy in my youth anyway—-just that, now, past my prime, I’ve discovered that love is not what I thought it to be. I didn’t completely miss the mark. But I did fail to see love for all that it really is—-in both glory and grief.

I never thought to associate love with work. But the reality is that it takes a lot of work to stay in love and to continue loving one another. Falling in love is easy. Staying in love is not. Love is not really about constancy—-rather it’s about tenacity. You’ve got to be made of sterner stuff to survive it.

Falling in love is not for the faint of heart. Personally, I prefer adventure travel.

Two weeks ago, I attended the wedding of two 22-year olds. There’s nothing like attending the wedding of the daughter of one of your closest friends and sitting at the friends of the parents’ table to nail down the reality of your youth lost forever.

Wasn’t it only yesterday when we talked about baby formula? Well, I guess we’ll be talking about it again soon. No matter how I pretend it’s not coming, I can’t. Grandparenthood is not only looming like a big, bad wolf, it’s all over the place. My niece, in fact, just gave birth to a second baby boy.

There comes a time in your life when you’ve got to let go—-that time has come for me.

It was a beautiful wedding. The bride and the groom were so obviously in love and enamored with each other. It was romantic and moving. This is the part where you’re probably expecting me to say something truly acidic and scathing. Well, you’re wrong.

I cried at the wedding.