this heart in the concrete has been on my mind since stumbling across it. i am constantly wondering the story behind it. were they alone and took advantage of the drying cement to cement their love for passing onlookers to see? were they dared to draw something by a friend and their intentions were too pure to trace anything but a heart? but why a heart? the endless possibilities of a blank canvas for the public eye and yet they chose a heart? maybe out of fear that it would be erased if anything else were to be etched in stone? maybe they feared a name of a lover wouldn’t last as long as just a heart? but it’s just a heart. no initials. no “Oscar wuz here :).“ no time stamp or anniversary. just a heart.
I struggle to find a reason of intention and yet this heart just stares back at me. but maybe this is love. reminding me on my walk that love exists. it comes and goes. it will show up unintentionally and unconditionally. there doesn’t have to be logic or reason behind it. there doesn’t have to be some long, drawn out story explaining how love works and comes to be. it can be just a heart. hardened in the concrete by an unknown artist who knows more about love than I ever could.