I was walking by a window a few weeks or so ago and found these two set to share a kiss for what I understood to be the millionth time. As I stared at their faces, I viewed two figures who looked to have weathered time, emotions, and trials. It's sort of nuts to think about, two faces which have changed faces within fifty or so years of life.
When I think of happiness, I often think of growing old with someone, yet still feeling some form of youthful exuberance; I mean we only "grow old" per se when we forget our youth. It's not about walks on the beach or the wind in our hair at this point in life, it's the memories which we've shared that will keep us coming back for more kisses.
Time is forever moving, what seemed far away yesterday is looking us squarely in the face, today, as if to say, "Did you miss me..." And I'm over here wondering how much longer of an embrace I have remaining with this world let alone someone else.
Who's the last person that kissed you and reminded you that everything is in its rightful place and life isn't that bad? Some people needn't look too far to find the answer whilst others are still left without any real answer at all. There's an adage that says, "It all starts with a kiss"; I'd like to think it starts with a kiss, maybe a walk, maybe sitting on a bench, or laying on your back looking at the stars, maybe it's a first kiss whilst having cheese and crackers or maybe just maybe it hasn't happened up to this point.
A few weeks ago or so, I was walking by a window and saw these two; it was a chance encounter, one which caught the very corner of my eye. As I stopped to take a picture, I thought about all of the years which they'd shared, I thought of all the years which I've wanted to share the feeling of growing old with someone worthy of my time and me of theirs.
I suppose there's always a message within picture, thus why I'm drawn to the capturing of moments. Much like a moth to the flame, I'm drawn to the thought of besos from time to time.