I love the beginning of a relationship. I'm really much better at it than the middle. Or the end.

Why is this? Because the beginning of a relationship is fun. It's a blast. I go out to exciting places and eat wonderful dinners.

Then comes the boring stuff. I start to notice flaws, and have less money to spend on dates. So boring! What happened to the excitement? What happened to the fun! Now I see her all the time, instead of every now and then, and it's a chore.

I just hate it when a relationship becomes work. Love is supposed to be fun and exciting and thrilling. Right?

Why am I saying all this? Against my better judgment, I've just made a serious commitment and it's been the most difficult move of my life. Ignoring all my past experience, I thought I could do it this time. This one was special, it would have to work. I was in love.

I was wrong. Even this amazing incredible being could not hold my interest. Even this partner with infinite potential didn't excite for as long as I thought she might.

And who was this? Who was I so madly in love with? Who could entice me, like no one has before? Who did I start sharing my life with, you ask?

It was G‑d.

She tricked me. Back in Arizona, G‑d and I were going out on dates. Every date we went on was better than the one before. Every moment we were together was more beautiful than the other. Every Friday night, like clockwork, we would relax, drink wine, and sing in joy together. Sometimes we spent the time with other people, sometimes we would have a beautiful time alone together.

But afterwards I would go back home, go back to my usual life. I would stop talking to her, and do my own thing. I was my own man.

Eventually, I started going to see her more. I found out more and more about her, and as much as I resisted, she kept pulling me in. I would see her on Mondays sometimes. Gross.

And then, somehow, she convinced me to tie the knot with her. She gave me a free airplane ticket, even some money, to come live with her, and convinced me it was for the best.

And now. Now I'm sitting here on the roof of her house, staring at this city of hers. And I'm bored. Every moment is so much work. All I want is to go home and find another girl to date. Maybe I could move again, somewhere fun. Maybe I can escape this possessive spouse's house!

And then one of her good friends comes and speaks to me. This guy with a beard. A funny black hat. Kind of reminds me of Abe Lincoln. And he starts talking to me calmly and sweetly. Clearly, he's been through this thing with her as well. He tells me how this point of the relationship is no longer only about me. It's no longer about having fun. It's about work, care and devotion.

I'll be honest, I don't often think those words. They kind of bounce off my wooden head most of the time, leaving a small echo. But this time… I think about all the great things she's been through with me. How amazing she was for me in the past, and all the beautiful things she did for me. She saved my life. She held me close when no one else would come near me. She taught me more than I've ever learned in my life.

And I start to think. Maybe it's time for me to start thinking about someone else for once. Maybe it's time I actually work for those that I love rather than simply desiring happiness from them. It's such a foreign idea, it seems so hard to comprehend. But, I keep remembering how close we were, how much she did for me, and how amazing it is that she trusted me enough to let her into her home and let me learn her deepest secrets.

For once in my life, I'm starting to understand what a real relationship is. And for once, I am going to stick with it to the end.