Some things do not need 'refreshing'. They have become so familiar that we often forget to lay our eyes on them and we almost always take them for granted. But they do not revolt against us, they never complain about us nor criticize our ingratitude ... It's their accepted fault for agreeing to become organically merged with us, for having chosen to become ours, to think about us, to dream about us, to put themselves on hold for our sake in both time and space, in reason and feeling, in pride and prejudice, in war and peace until something stronger than death, even more terrible than compromise or self-sacrifice is bound to claim supremacy or monopoly on the former symbiosis ...
Some things will always remain 'ours', always unique, like parents, childhood memories and daydreams.
Everyone should perceive life not as a single journey, but as a series of emotional excesses, excruciating passions, selfless abdications and overwhelming defeats, heartbreaking farewells and irrational hope. Everyone should know that love is not unique, but unrepeatable, not the same but different each time... much better, more complex, closer and closer to the truth. Like a progressive experience whose meaning will not be revealed until the final stage.