“Is love truly eternal?” 

A voice chirped up with its sunny tone that concealed an empty calmness of the waves. It was as if a breeze of wind, the old man was unfazed, continuing his writing. He stared ahead, to the garden, where the raindrop hit every single flower that grew. Feeling the coldness of his wooden terrace underneath his feets. 

“Because wouldn’t it wilt once there’s nothing at all? When the things you like are lost, when the person you love is gone, and when you die?”

The old man peered at the younger girl who sat besides him, crossing her legs, reaching out her hand towards the little drops that fell from the roof overhang. The girl was laughing along with a man, just a few weeks back. Both of them were in the old man’s sanctuary that he wholeheartedly opened for everyone who wanted to visit his garden. 

“People change, the world changes, nothing is eternal right? So why do humans like to romanticize those words, even though there is no way it’s true?” 

Her eyes devoured the sight of the rain, searching for something desperately. The old man remained still, devouring the same scene in a way that she would describe as ‘romanticizing’ in his notebook. 

“Are we humans that weak so we need to cling to an ideal idea that was by no means true? That came out only from someone's mouth by a split second of gratefulness?”

He spotted a wilted flower in the corner of his eyesight. It has reached beyond its lifeline. The girl followed his sight, and spotted it right away. With the color of yellow, although pale, it stood out when surrounded by white flowers. 

“I heard that you kind sir, opened this garden because you love people. Would it one day be closed when you decided that it was not worth it anymore? Or maybe when you died?” 

When the girl didn’t get any response from the old mind she sighed. When she was about to leave the old man alone, that was when he spoke a word.  

“Eternity that humans said was usually when they didn’t know where it will end,” 

She whipped her head towards the old man and he gestured for her to sit down again before going back to writing. Curious, she took a seat to where she was, this time, facing the old man. 

“There will always be love, as long as humans still exist. As we are gifted the ability to love even the smallest and trivial things, such as a simple favorite food,” 

The old man who kept staring at the garden, noticed that the rain was getting lighter. His eyes roamed around to see the drops from the trees and leaves. Also how some water flooded the part of the garden, bringing some of the plants with it. 

“And while some love faded, it will always be there. Whether as an unreachable feeling, or as a pain that is embraced by sadness, fear, and hatred. You can’t hate without feeling a bit of care towards something,” 

He closed the book as the rain stopped. For the first time he stared back at her with a soft smile. 

“I made this garden, along with my late wife, as we both shared the enjoyment of doing so. I intended to keep the place and share the love that was here as long as I could. It would be nice if it could persist for a long time, and when my times come, I hope someone who loves this place could take care of it, ”

The girl who was now a woman, remembered the talk in the garden she had with the old man as she was tending to it. While the man was gone, he left his love through the place and his book, which she only got to read recently. 

She shared it with her husband, telling him a tale of how she was losing hope and stumbled into the garden instead. She told him she misses the rain, because those were the times she would converse with the old man of the garden. The man who had a big heart that gave a room for those who visit his beloved place.