It did my heart good tonight, as I passed by my parents bedroom door, and stopped to listen for a minute, to their conversation. My mom was retelling stories from her childhood, and my dad lay there,listening, and asking questions. This gave me so much hope.
Because, you see... One of my greatest fears is for my love to grow cold, or wax over or become too familiar or mundane. If my parents still have new things to tell each other and secrets to share... after 25 years~ then, I think I have hope for my love one day.
Another thing that gives me hope: sunsets are never the same.
2 years ago
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