Serial comics. Long-form comics. Basically, what Zombie Ranch is: a tale told over weeks, months, or even years, rather than the more-or-less isolated punchlines of a gag strip. The payoffs for reading aren’t necessarily as immediate, but (hopefully) good enough to justify the commitment. Ah yes, commitment. Earlier this month marked nine years since we got all this started in a whirlwind fervor and fresh-facedly made our first convention exhibitor appearance. We’ve had a lot of ups and downs since then, but one thing I can admit is that the early sense of infatuation, of being borderline obsessed, is no longer there. That might sound bad, but it’s not far off from how Dawn and I feel about our marriage. Ooookay, that probably sounds worse. Love is supposed to be forever, right? Well, there’s love and there’s love. In particular, there’s love and there’s limerence. Limerence is the term for that whirlwind romance state. The proverbial “honeymoon” referred to by such ominous phrases as “the honeymoon is over.” In terms of relationships, the limerence period typically lasts between 18 months and three years, but it’s widely agreed that it won’t last forever. Terrible, huh? Well, only if your definitions of love and limerence are conflated, so that when limerence goes you feel like love is gone, too. Since pop culture bombards us all our lives with stories of “love at first sight,” “true love,” and “happily ever after,” it’s not an easy conflation to avoid. When “love” has been lost, then why are we even doing this? That’s the big question, and my answer is: friendship. Call it friends with benefits if you will, although I’m not going to transfer that particular metaphor back to the comic (because eww, messy). If your lover also happens to be your best buddy, then the loss of limerence doesn’t need to lead to failure and separation. You’re still friends, you still enjoy each other’s company, you’re still giving and getting something important out of the arrangement. Not so bad, that.