Love is a myth. A description of hopeful pheromones tweaking hormones. We use it to describe that ineffable attraction we have to another. Soon though, the mundane destroys it. The cute quirks become irritations. The unforgivable thoughtlessness adds up. The toilet seat left up, the bra drying on the shower curtain rod become emotional battle lines.

Can we survive the myth? Can we transcend the myth? Can we acknowledge our flawed humanity and find solace in friendship without romantic expectation. Can that partnership we call "love" grow to a deep and abiding partnership, us against the hardships throws at us? Can we be one another's bulwark against the pain and suffering that life is?

Because love is not hearts and flowers. It's mopping up the effluvium of our mistakes. It's not twisting the knife in an argument you may lose. It's an apology when you least expect it. It's knowing when to remain silent.

Can we do away with our romantic notions of what two people can share? Should we?