Love never dies.

I met this old man, once upon a time. He was a charming fellow, seemed very bright. He wore a dead pink rose in his jacket pocket, and tried his best to stay sitting up. I wondered why he chose to wear a dead flower, but it was not the right time to ask. This man was 102 years old. I met him at Cambridge care home where i work. One day he told me to sit down, and told me of a tale, many years ago, when he met his wife. "I saw her once, and i knew....i knew she was the one" He had said. He continued by telling me of how they began to speak with one another. "I noticed she was carrying a basket of light pink roses, I couldn't tell you why. Only god knows. I couldn't let this beauty out of my sight. I was mesmerized. I followed her to a near by bus station. As she jumped into one. I too, hopped on the bus. I sat a few rows behind her, wondering what to do next. Nothing came to mind. A young lad sat across from me, and he noticed my infatuation with this young lady. He leaned over, tipped his hat, and said, by golly, you've found her." At this point of the story, I became antsy. I wanted to know what would come next. "Go on!" I shouted. He smiled politely and went on. "I followed her off the bus and down the road to a little shop. I waited outside, trying not to be noticed. When she came out, she continued to walk down the road. She crossed the street, and i quickly followed. She crossed the street again, not even a block later. She crossed three more times, me, closely behind. She went to the very end of the road and stopped on the water front. I was a bit confused by her actions. She turned around and stared at me. 'Oh no!' I thought! I had to get out of there. I turned around and began a trot back towards town. She hollered after me 'wait, please wait!' I made my way back to her. She instantly smiled, and said 'i noticed you a few blocks back. I hoped you were following me'. She handed me a pink rose and said 'this one, this one right here, it's for you to keep. Forever and always.' Years went by, and as they did, we got married in a small church and had a beautiful young girl, but she passed a few years back. We grew old together. One morning, i got up out of bed, and made her breakfast. This was not a rare thing, i would go to worlds end for my darling Pearl. When i brought breakfast in, she would not wake. I did everything i could, but nothing. The ambulance came, but she would not respond to anything. They told me this was my last time making her breakfast. I cried for days. She was my one love." This made me begin to cry. But he went on. "I wear this rose as a symbol of my love and care for my wife. This here rose is the exact one she gave me in 1926. And i will forever wear it." I was so touched by the story, i had to go out and tell my friends and family of this amazing tale of how two fell in love. A couple of days went by and as i returned to work, and entered his room, the bed was made, and he was nowhere in sight. I asked around and found that he did not awaken from his slumber. He was dead. I went to his funeral, and there, lying in the casket, was the brave old man, with the dead, pink rose in his pocket. To this day, his story lives on, in each an every heart he touched.