Today I saw an old man on the train, He took out his wallet and pulled out a picture of what appeared to be him and his wife. He brushed his fingers over her face, as if he could feel her skin through the photograph. He then pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed his eyes with it. The picture shaking in his hands and his delicate sighs were enough evidence for me to realize he lost the love of his life. I cannot even begin to fathom the idea of losing someone I shared my whole life with. I don't know how I would handle that situation. I would be mad, it would be unfair to be left to live without them. I wouldn't want to live one day or even one moment without them. I think couples who are truly in love should die together, for they are one piece, not two seperate pieces. Honestly, I wouldn't be able to handle the world if my other half died. I would surely melt to a puddle. How is he doing it? I took another look at the old man and even with his frail bones and gentle hands, I decided he was the strongest person in the world.