Eternal Love | Amor Eterno
"After a lifetime together, two Latinas reflect on the love that carried them through everything"
Eternal Love
Amor Eterno
Fifty years. That's how long we've loved each other.
"Do you remember the first time?" she asks, her hand still fitting perfectly in mine.
"I remember everything."
We met young—too young, some said. Two girls who looked at each other and knew.
"This is crazy," she said then.
"This is love," I answered.
"Same thing?"
"The best kind."
We survived decades. The years when we couldn't be open. The years when we had to hide. The years when the world finally caught up.
"Was it worth it?" she asks sometimes.
"You have to ask?"
"I like hearing the answer."
"Every single moment. Every single day."
Our family grew. Not children from our bodies, but children we chose. Grandchildren who call us both abuela. A legacy of love expanded.
"We built something," she observes.
"We built everything."
Now we sit on the porch of the house we bought together forty years ago. Watch sunsets like we watched the first one.
"Will you love me forever?" she asks.
"I already have. I'm just continuing."
Amor eterno isn't a promise. It's a practice.
Every morning: buenos días, mi amor.
Every night: te amo.
Every moment between: proof that love survives everything.
"To us," we toast every anniversary.
"To the next fifty years," she adds.
"We might not have fifty more."
"Then we make every day count."
That's the secret. Not grand gestures. Not dramatic declarations.
Just two women. Day after day. Choosing each other.
Amor eterno—where love is not a moment but a lifetime, and forever begins with today.
She falls asleep in my arms. After fifty years, still the best feeling in the world.
"Te amo," I whisper.
"Te amo más," she murmurs back.
"Impossible."
"Watch me."
The same conversation. Every night. For fifty years.
May it last fifty more.
Amor eterno. Eternal love. The only kind worth having.