What love is like at 58

Lena compares love at 28, 34 and 58. Less fear through more loss. Finite love as the only true kind.

At 28 I loved out of fear. At 34 out of knowledge. At 58 — after my husband's death, after Martin — I love differently.

Less fear. That still surprises me. Loss teaches: you survive. That is stable knowledge.

I love Martin without the conviction that it is forever. That sounds like less than it is. The anyway is the heart of it.

Real love must be finite to be true. Otherwise it is obsession. At 28 I didn't know this. At 58 I do.

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