It's the terrible and wonderful life of someone rather ordinary, everyone becomes ordinary and extraordinary at the same time in a big city like London. I remember that line from Sweet Smell of Success well, "I love this dirty, stinky little town" or something to that effect.
Surely when something feels so right and so very wonderful, it drags behind itself a terrible, stinging shadow, beautiful and compellingly horrifying all at once, yet... you guessed it, you cannot turn away. You grab hold of his/her hand and it is exactly as you imagine it, reassuring, strong, firm and sensitive. You cannot let go so you kiss it once, twice, thrice... to an infinity. And you want to kiss it some more and you want to kiss all of this person, every inch of them, and then you feel tears stinging your eyes because the beauty before your eyes is so overwhelming that everything else disappears because your mind shuts down, is it possible to simply want to obliterate all else and just exist in bliss, with this person. 
And yet that much beauty contrasting with that much pain and horror and ugliness, the lack and the surplus, bodies reach the edge of crisis, and transformed into something else altogether yet at the same time remain the same, even more sameness than they ever were. Pulsating organs, flowing blood, living, breathing, thriving, failing and succeeding, all the rest of it, whatever else?
