a passage in time lost

remember the scene where the two silver-haired old couples are strolling along the sidewalk, hand in hand, feets pushing forward unsteadily, his hands supporting hers, her hands acting as his pillar. or two aged couples, sitting on the swing, she taking a lick out of his ice-cream, he wiping the corner of her mouth for some that went astray. such devotion. such endearment. love that seems to last forever.

the older i am, the more i realise that such eternal devotion is nothing more than a sham. a myth portrayed to snare young, innocent and romantic folks. remind me to burn my mills and boon romance novels. a love that lasts forever is nothing more than a beautiful, and fictitious, facade for the benefit of the general public. sweep the dirty laundry under the carpet. all is beautiful and wonderful. nobody thought forever was going to be easy. but at least everybody goes in trying and fighting to keep it alive, not take underhanded hits and bail out when the alternative is younger and sexier. it's not fair.

i told a story last year. i thought they had another chance, another opportunity to really see what is precious. 25 years. quarter a century. that is a very long time. filled with so many memories, both beautiful and sad. good times, tough times, happy times, sad times. they went through so much together. all given up in the blink of an eye. sometimes it makes you wonder what can be so appealing as to make another give up so much. or did it not matter anymore, those past, those memories, those moments that defined your life and who you are now. when you give up, you basically erased 25 years of your life. who can share with you the beautiful and miraculous birth of your child, your flesh and blood? who else remembered your sorrow when your parent passed away? who else can recollect the joy when you have your first car, first house, first company? somehow all these memories are not fight for new, sexier ones. you open the book of your life and many pages are empty. from the day you met her to the day you left her. all torn and burned to ashes. that's so sad.

granted, love dies. for some. for others, it grow into a kind of comfortable companionship. but when love dies, do it with a little grace. give the other party a little respect, a little pride, a little humility, for all the years they have spend with you, for the youth that they have sacrificed for you. leave them with love, not cruelty, not harshness. love dies. does it also die for all concerned? how about the little one? does it die for her too? the one who looks so much like you? the one who adores you and worships the ground you walk on? does she not count too? when another's sexy hip wriggles, and the bum shakes, all rationality is lost. is that how it is? life should be fair. if life can't be fair, at least we should try to be fair.