This morning I drove past an elderly couple, all bundled up, out taking their morning walk. And it touched me. I then thought about all the couples out there, making it into their golden years, all that time, hand in hand, strolling through life together. I thought about their joy. I thought about their misery. I thought about me. Will I ever get there? Will I ever find someone to hold my hand along all the rough patches, willing to take a detour every now and then? My parents walk together. My parents don’t hold hands.
And then I wondered whether having someone there at all is better than being alone. Even if every step reminds you of every hidden truth. Even if your inner most thoughts could never be brought to the surface. Even if you are but an empty shell on two feet wishing once and for all you could free yourself from it. So much goes on between two strangers. So much no one else could ever know. It is these deep dark secrets casting a shadow upon the pavement. It is this unknowing of love I would much rather do without.