*Love Happens*, by HR

She got up every morning to see him.

She looked with a sigh, behind a curtain, so that he could not see her face.

She counted the minutes waiting to see him pass by, like when they were dating.

He remembered all the loving moments they had shared and felt that sensation that moves you, that inner spark they call love, that magnetic impulse that attracts us.

I felt butterflies, thirty years after he had died.

And love, like everything you feel inside, has no time.