“I’ll always want him. Until every sun goes dark in every sky, until I am nothing more than long-forgotten cosmic dust, I will want him. And even then I suspect my particles will long for his.”
Women worry about men forgetting things. Men worry about women remembering things.
You want to come into my life, door’s open. You want to walk out of my life, door’s open. Just don’t stand in the doorway, you’re blocking traffic.