To be or Not to be in Limerence

Limerence: the involuntary emotional state of intense romantic desire for another person.

Today, I was informed that one can only be "in love" with a person for a maximum of 17 months. This is according to science. Science knows best. The average length or limerence is between 3 and 6 months. Then you break up and start the cycle all over again.

For some reason, I found this knowledge comforting. And I say this as a lie in bed gnawing on a chunck of chocolate, because according to Barbara Novak, chocolate is better than sex. No, but really.

I felt a huge weight. I find Limerence exhausting. All the wishing, waiting, wanting. It is all so time consuming. "OMG, he fist bumped my should, that totally means he wants to eat my box!"
No. seriously. The uncontrollable urge to want someone to lust you back is just too much to handle. Thank God it only lasts 3 months, and thank God it is normal to lose the feeling.

The best relationship I've ever had began limerence free. There was lust, but it was not all encompassing. I did not eat, breathe, and think about this fellow 24/7. There was no pressure.

The say limerence exists purely on hope and uncertainty. Thanks a lot Prometheus.

Where has all the spermicide gone?

A friend goes to the drugstore. (I'm settin' this up like a bad joke)

He's gone in search of spermicide.  He checks out the sexy-time aisle.  He finds her pleasure. His pleasure. Lambskin.  A shit load of money suckin' fun.  Whoever said sex was free had obviously never set foot in a drugstore.

He scans the aisle.  Nothing.  Double-checks.  Still nada.  Finds a clerk.  They try again.  Call the pharmacist.  Take three.  Where is the manager?

Four grown men find themselves on all fours crawling past everything other than the gelly they seek, the loudspeaker blaring more assistance to aisle 12.  

So with this I ask, how many grown men does it take to find spermicide?  Or rather, where has all the spermicide gone?  It sure hasn't gone to the flowers, that is for sure.

Have all the fancy inventions in the form of pills, patches, and rings made the need for spermicide obsolete? Or is just this another case of the impending threat of manhood found in the sexy-time aisle?