Why is a moment not enough?
Why is it, that we crave the promise of an eternity?
Why is it not enough to know that back in the summer of '15, that day in the heather field, that evening in the coffee shop, that hour in the library, that minute in the lift, that second when our eyes met on the street, we were in love.
Why is it, that we need to know if our love will survive the trials of time or fate?
Isn't it enough to know that in that moment, we loved and were loved?