Time is a strange thing. When we are young, it feels endless, a vast expanse where everything is possible. We don’t think about its limits, nor do we truly feel its presence—we simply live, moving forward as if time were a river flowing in the background, steady and unchanging. But as we grow older, something shifts. Time begins to take on a different weight, no longer an infinite horizon but a series of fleeting moments, slipping through our hands like sand. Some days stretch on endlessly, while others vanish in an instant, leaving us wondering how the years have passed so quickly.
And in this dance between what was and what is, we start to realize that there is only one force strong enough to defy time: love. Love is the thread that weaves through our memories, the imprint that remains long after everything else fades. It is not measured in hours or days but in the depth of connection, in the warmth of a touch, in the quiet knowing that we have mattered to someone. When we look back, we don’t remember time itself—we remember love, the moments when our hearts were truly full.
As we grow older, we also come to understand that love is not just the grand, romantic notion we once believed in. It is everywhere, in a thousand small gestures—a friend who listens, a child’s laughter, the comforting embrace of someone who has always been there. Love is in the way the ocean meets the shore, in the golden light of a late afternoon, in the way a familiar voice can make everything feel right again. It is in the moments we often overlook, the ones that seem ordinary until we realize they were everything.
But it takes time to learn this. When we are young, we chase after love, believing it is something to be found, something just out of reach. Only later do we understand that it was never missing. It was here all along, in the spaces between the rush, in the quiet presence of those who truly see us.
And maybe this is the most valuable lesson time gives us: everything changes, everything moves, but love remains. It lingers in the words we spoke, in the hands we held, in the kindness we offered. In the end, when time has taken all that it can, love will be what’s left. The only thing that was ever truly ours. The only thing that lasts.
