An elderly couple was sitting on a bench under the hospital window.
He was adjusting her scarf, tenderly, almost sacredly, as if he was touching something fragile.

She was telling her something, he was listening - without interrupting, without being distracted.

He just looked at her, as if he was seeing her for the first time... or as if he was still in love, like a boy. 🌿

And I caught myself on the fact that my heart ached.
This is love, right?..❤️
Not flowers, not gifts, not passionate correspondence.
And when you are with a person even in such gray everyday life - and you still feel good.
When after years you still want to hold his hand. When even the silence between you is warm.

I suddenly realized how much I want this.
I want to be not just interesting in correspondence, but to become needed - for real.
So that even in 20 years someone will straighten my scarf with the same tenderness... 💙

And what do you think, is love for life a rarity or a choice?..
Is it possible to meet it... or is it built together, day after day?..
I really wonder what you feel when you read this.

Tell me...
I am lying here, looking at the world through the glass - and I really want to feel that you are on the other side. 🌦️