There was a couple I remember seeing one afternoon while we were driving on our way to the store. The man and the woman were standing still in the midst of a crowd while everyone around them was bustling along. They were stuck in their own little world and everything else was a blur. 

It was the kind of scene that belongs in movies and in books, the ones that make your heart ache and make you cry the hardest: one of his arms was wrapped around her tightly, and I could see that she was pushing her body into his, almost as if she wished that they'd meld into one. She was resting her head on his shoulder, and it was then that I wished my camera's lens could zoom all the way to them from where I was watching, because everything about that scene was too beautiful to forget. But even if I could have taken a picture, I felt like I would have been intruding into something too personal and private. I couldn't capture it with my camera, but I am remembering it with my heart.

They were different from the other couples I've seen. There was a strong sense of sadness and desperation the way they clung to each other, as if it was the last time. It was the sort of thing you see in airports, when it's time to go and you have to say goodbye. 

I find people fascinating. I've grown to like watching them, especially through the backseats of cars. And when my imagination is alive I paint stories into things I see each day. 

Theirs is the story I haven't written. Theirs is the story I am yet to write, when I find the right words someday.