Apparently, T.S. Eliot never married the ‘love of his life.’ Her name was Emily Hale. Yet he wrote this beautiful line about his second wife: ‘Lovers whose bodies smell of each other.’
I suppose that’s what love is – no longer knowing where you begin and end because you have now merged into a new space of being. Where does love begin and end? It doesn’t. Love is infinite; it defies boundaries and limits.