how far does love go?

A little warning: It's only 6:45 AM now; I've been up with the sun. There is bound to be a stream of consciousness to follow.All of my life, up until the moment I met Philipp, I'd always wondered if love would find me and if it did, would it prove itself worthy? I'd never been a person to settle and was content with being alone and doing my travels if the love I wanted could only be had at 65, 75 or 95 %. I was always very all or nothing. I suppose this is because I was always fully aware of what I would put into a relationship, and that was nothing short of my very soul...blood, sweat, tears, the full speeding train. Life was (and continues to be) too short for half-assed love affairs.
***
As you can imagine, this intensity probably confused a lot of my 20 year old peers.
: ) Scary is probably the word that would come to mind. Haha. I just never could be bothered with the small talk. Let's get down to business. Who are you? What makes you tick? What makes your blood boil? Are you passionate? If not, why are we talking?
***
Anyways, as I stumbled into that love of mine that was more than 95%, the fear of "How far does love go?" would creep to mind. As in, can love be broken? The real kind? Does it have it's limits or does it withstand all crucibles it's placed in & emerge ever purer for it?
***
One of my biggest fears is that in the hour of my beloved's need, I will fail. Meaning, my love will be less than what I've convinced myself it to be. If faced with chronic illness or something equally as horrible, will I be able to dig to that place of truth and love and serve the person I promised to stand by with all of my heart even as they slip further away from the person I'd known and loved before? Or will I become broken, scared, impatient and hurtful?

I always wondered if someone came at us to do us harm, would I refuse to leave his side or would I run? And if I did run, even if he told me to, would that mean I loved him less or that I'd feared death more than I'd loved him? And if it did mean this, what did it make of the love I'd declared and the life I'd lived with him? Would my moment(s) of weakness reveal a shaky love or just that I'm flawed, like we all are?

I know these scenarios are a bit contrived and ridiculous, but they're the most extreme situations I can come up with that would test a person.
***
A few months ago, Philipp caught some kind of cold and was holed up in the little garden house to get well. I'd been doing my duty of making him food and bringing him drinks, but I was in a rotten mood; the door kept knocking over hot things I would bring him, I was tired of hearing him complain, etc. etc. I just selfishly wanted him to get well so I could have my fun friend back. And I was only moderately sympathetic.

Then in the latter part of August, we found out we're expecting a baby. And I began to get sick. Really, really sick. Worse and more trying than anything I've experienced. It lasted all day and interrupted my sleep at night. It made me shiver and shake and groan out of misery pretty much 24/7.

For 6 weeks my best friend laid beside me in my hour(s) of need as if the pain were his own and never once complained.

I lasted 2 days for him.
***
And this is how a European-born lifelong Atheist taught a Southern-born ex-church going Agnostic to love.
***
And to think, without a commandment to do so in sight.