Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Happiness is in the heart of the feeler.
Memories are written and recalled as uniquely as we each are.
I take them to the city to see the sights, to hear and smell and feel the difference in the air.
A city full of passion and confusion, chaos and magic, overstimulation and isolation, fears and dreams.
My love affair cannot be passed down, only shared.
I see them recall their last time, they note the difference, they wonder at the newness.
Memories are being written; some with magic in the moment and some will await the magic in a future recollection.