THE TRAP OF āFOREVERā
āUntil death do us partā is the most beautiful horror story we ever invented.
It doesnāt mean āwe will always be happy.ā
It means:
I will watch time change you.
Or
you will watch it change me.
We treat āforeverā like a fairytale.
But forever means staying long enough to witness the unraveling.
The hands that once held flowers will someday tremble.
The face you memorized in perfect light will become unfamiliar in slow motion.
And if you are lucky
really lucky
you will still love them anyway.
Thatās the terrifying part.
Not the wedding.
Not the vows.
The aftermath.
The years after the photographs stop looking current.
The nights spent holding someone together while their body slowly negotiates with time.
The moment you realize the person who once carried you upstairs now needs help standing up.
People think love is finding someone perfect.
It isnāt.
Itās choosing to remain when the version you fell in love with starts disappearing.
And maybe thatās what āforeverā actually means.
Not eternal happiness.
Just two people agreeing to witness each otherās slow transformation
and stay.



















