Better save love at the very beginning, avoiding all passionate ‘nevers, ’ ‘forevers; ‘ we ought to have heard what the train wheels were shouting, ‘Do not make promises! ’ Promises are levers.
We should have made note of the broken branches, we should have looked up at the smokey sky, warning the witless pretensions of lovers- the greater the hope is, the greater the lie.
True kindness in love means staying quite sober, weighing each link of the chain you must bear. Don’t promise her heaven-suggest half an acre; not ‘unto death, ’ but at least to next year.
And don’t keep declaring, ‘I love you, I love you.’ That little phrase leads a durable life- when remembered again in some loveless hereafter, it can sting like a hornet or stab like a knife.