Ephemeral pleasures, or are they?

"You've spoiled me; for anywhere else, anybody else. Do you know that?"

"What do I do now?"

"What do I do when all this ceases to be?"

"You never know, it might as well not."

"I know! And I've come to terms with it."

Remember when I asked you about that particular species of tropical plant, which I loved so dear to have it planted in my garden; but I could not because it could not thrive in this climate, in this environment.

I told you, it would die here; and then I asked you, if I should still plant it in my garden.

Remember what you said? You told me everything dies- a mother does not refuse to bear her child because one day he shall die. She simply does not do that. She, despite knowing that her child is not eternal, everlasting, and is but mortal, bears him, goes through all that agony to bring him to this world.

I told you I did not want that dear plant to die, just because of a whim of mine.

You told me, it wasn't sensible to choose to not do certain things in our lives out of mere fear of grim outcomes.

You told me, irrespective of how things might turn out, we do certain things only because they mean so much to us, and in return what we get are some very precious moments, memories.

So... I... rooted the plant.

I have come to terms with it.

I do not know, certainly, what I'd do when all this ceases to be, but... all I know, and all that matters right now, is that I'm collecting moments, memories; precious memories that would last for an eternity.

I'm not going to let even a single minute to go to waste.

There's so little time, so many memories to collect.

Better get back to work, shall we?