Sweet love renew thy force; be it not said
Thy edge should blunter be than appetite,
Which but today by feeding is allay'd
To-morrow sharpen'd in his former might:
... do not kill
The spirit of love with a perpetual dullness.*
So, let's imagine that you and I are a couple of balloons. Filled with some sort of lighter than the rest of the air stuff, (not hydrogen please for hydrogen is explosive), we meet as you are bobbing by.
I have come to you with a difficult issue, and you, like the kind balloon you are, have agreed to listen and bob encouragingly at all the right places as I puzzle through my balloonish issue:
A long time ago I met this other balloon who was tethered but not completely grounded. We found pleasure in holding each other close and thus anchored nicely to the ground we made a life together. Time passed and change happened. We made new and so very light balloon children, who have since floated off on their own adventures. Somehow, even though I stayed very buoyant, likely to blow away if not tied down, my partner, slowly shortening her tether, became very anchor-like herself; no longer very balloonish. Further, she finds my tendency toward balloonish adventure to be annoying and constantly works to shorten my tether.
Although very attached to her, this anchor~balloon conflict is dangerous, because being anchored is not only boring for balloons, it is depressing. My life partner has come to recognize this to some extent, but has become afraid of flying, or at least sees no advantage to letting go of the ground she is so familiar with to let me pull her up into an unknown but definitely not boring future.
I would never have met you, or anyone here floating by if not for this tether that gives me some freedom, yet so many have departed, now away upon adventures.
Dying of boredom, anchored to a ground that brings little surprise or joy seems a poor way for balloons to end their days.
It's possible my analogy is stretched a little (balloon pun?), but if I promise not to try to tie you down, stay with me for a while and, wonder with me, balloon to balloon… is this fair to ask of my partner, and if so, how do I help her recover her lightness, let go and fly free?
Maybe a love-story for her to read?
"Once upon a time, not so very long ago, ...
*Sonnet 56 - Shakespeare