we'll walk into forever to find ourselves where we began.
sight of old couples strolling hand in hand still makes me smile and feel warm and go "awww" inside. sometimes when i'm out with my parents, i'd notice how dad would reach out for mom's hand so naturally, check the traffic on both sides of the road and hold onto her hand firmly as they cross over. and it always makes me wonder, how do they do it? share a love that lasts through 3 decades, not be sick of each other, not pick on each other's flaws, not wondering what it'd be like different. perhaps there is no such thing as forever love, but there is love that is like a plant, which needs nurturing and care, and wilts without it, which has its seasons of bloom, which matures from something as small as an apple seed and is most beautiful in its ripe, old age. it may die, i suppose, as all things do, but not without leaving its beauty and fruit behind. i know, this may be one cheesy metaphor. but well, love is cheesy a lot of times.