I have a friend who is falling in love. She honestly claims the sky is bluer. Mozart moves her to tears. She has lost 15 pounds and looks like a cover girl.

 "I'm young again!" she shouts exuberantly.

As my friend raves on about her new love, I've taken a good look at my old one. My husband of almost 20 years, Scott, has gained 15 pounds. Once a marathon runner, he now runs only down hospital halls. His hairline is receding and his body shows the signs of long working hours and too many candy bars. Yet he can still give me a certain look across a restaurant table and I want to ask for the check and head home.

When my friend asked me "What will make this love last?" I ran through all the obvious reasons: commitment, shared interests, unselfishness, physical attraction, communication. Yet there's more. We still have fun. Spontaneous good times. Yesterday, after slipping the rubber band off the rolled up newspaper, Scott flipped it playfully at me: this led to an all-out war. Last Saturday at the grocery, we split the list and raced each other to see who could make it to the checkout first. Even washing dishes can be a blast. We enjoy simply being together.

And there are surprises. One time I came home to find a note on the front door that led me to another note, then another, until I reached the walk-in closet. I opened the door to find Scott holding a "pot of gold" (my cooking kettle) and the "treasure" of a gift package. Sometimes I leave him notes on the mirror and little presents under his pillow.

There is understanding. I understand why he must play basketball with the guys. And he understands why, once a year, I must get away from the house, the kids—and even him-to meet my sisters for a few days of nonstop talking and laughing.

There is sharing. Not only do we share household worries and parental burdens—we also share ideas. Scott came home from a convention last month and presented me with a thick historical novel. Though he prefers thrillers and science fiction, he had read the novel on the plane. He touched my heart when he explained it was because he wanted to be able to exchange ideas about the book after I'd read it.

There is forgiveness. When I'm embarrassingly loud and crazy at parties, Scott forgives me. When he confessed losing some of our savings in the stock market, I gave him a hug and said, "It's okay. It's only money."

There is sensitivity. Last week he walked through the door with that look that tells me it's been a tough day. After he spent some time with the kids, I asked him what happened. He told me about a 60-year-old woman who'd had a stroke. He wept as he recalled the woman's husband standing beside her bed, caressing her hand. How was he going to tell this husband of 40 years that his wife would probably never recover? I shed a few tears myself. Because of the medical crisis. Because there were still people who have been married 40 years. Because my husband is still moved and concerned after years of hospital rooms and dying patients.

There is faith. Last Tuesday a friend came over and confessed her fear that her husband is losing his courageous battle with cancer. On Wednesday I went to lunch with a friend who is struggling to reshape her life after divorce. On Thursday a neighbor called to talk about the frightening effects of Alzheimer's disease on her father-in-law's personality. On Friday a childhood friend called long-distance to tell me her father had died. I hung up the phone and thought, This is too much heartache for one week. Through my tears, as I went out to run some errands, I noticed the boisterous orange blossoms of the gladiolus outside my window. I heard the delighted laughter of my son and his friend as they played. I caught sight of a wedding party emerging from a neighbor's house. The bride, dressed in satin and lace, tossed her bouquet to her cheering friends. That night, I told my husband about these events. We helped each other acknowledge the cycles of life and that the joys counter the sorrows. It was enough to keep us going.

Finally, there is knowing. I know Scott will throw his laundry just shy of the hamper every night; he'll be late to most appointments and eat the last chocolate in the box. He knows that I sleep with a pillow over my head; I'll lock us out of the house at a regular basis, and I will also eat the last chocolate.

I guess our love lasts because it is comfortable. No, the sky is not bluer: it's just a familiar hue. We don't feel particularly young: we've experienced too much that has contributed to our growth and wisdom, taking its toll on our bodies, and created our memories.

I hope we've got what it takes to make our love last. As a bride, I had Scott's wedding band engraved with Robert Browning's line "Grow old along with me!" We're following those instructions.

If anything is real, the heart will make it plain.

原文翻译：

我有一个朋友，她掉进爱里了。她发自内心地说，天空是蓝的。莫扎特感动她流泪。她瘦了15磅，看起来像个封面女郎。

“我又年轻了！”她欢呼道。

我 的朋友对她的新欢赞不绝口，我审视了我的旧爱。我丈夫近20年，史葛，已获得15英镑。曾经有一个马拉松运动员，他现在只能在医院大厅里跑。他前额的头发 越来越少，他的身体显示长时间工作的痕迹和太多的糖果。但他仍然可以给我一个肯定的目光穿过餐厅的桌子，我想要求检查和头家。

当 我的朋友问我“什么会使这个爱最后？”我跑过所有显而易见的原因：承诺，共同的兴趣，无私奉献，身体的吸引，沟通。还有更多。我们仍然有乐趣。自发的好时 光。昨天，橡皮筋后从卷起的报纸，史葛开玩笑地弹了我：这LED的全面战争。上星期六在杂货店，我们分开的名单，并互相比赛，看看谁能使它的结帐第一。即 使洗盘子也能爆炸。我们享受仅仅是在一起。

还有惊喜。一天我回到家，发现门上有一张纸条，LED我另一张便条，然后另一个，直到我走到壁橱。我打开门，发现史葛拿着一个“金罐”（我的烹饪壶）和一个礼品包的“宝”。有时我把他在镜子上留着，小礼物放在他的枕头下。

有理解。我明白他为什么要和那家伙打篮球。他明白为什么，一年一次，我必须离开家里，孩子们，甚至他去见我的姐妹几天不停地说话和笑。

有分享。我们不仅可以分担家庭的忧虑和父母的负担，我们也分享想法。史葛上个月从一个会议上回到家，并送给我一部厚厚的历史小说。虽然他更喜欢恐怖和科幻小说，他却在飞机上阅读的小说。当他解释这是因为他想在我读到它的那本书的时候，我的心是因为他想交换意见。

有宽恕。当我尴尬地大声疯狂聚会，史葛原谅我。当他承认在股市上失去了一些积蓄时，我给他一个拥抱，说：“这很好。这只是钱。”

敏 感度。上周，他走到门口，告诉我，这是一个艰难的日子。他和孩子们呆了一段时间后，我问他发生了什么事。他告诉我一个60岁的女人，她有一个中风。他回忆 起那个女人的丈夫站在她床边他哭了，抚摸着她的手。他将如何告诉这个丈夫的40年，他的妻子可能永远不会恢复？我流下了几滴眼泪。因为医疗危机。因为还有 人已经结婚40年。因为我丈夫在医院病房和临终病人的年后仍然感动和关心。

有 信仰。上个星期二，一位朋友来了，并承认她担心她的丈夫正在失去他与癌症的斗争的勇气。星期三，我和一位正在苦苦挣扎着要离婚的朋友一起去吃午饭的时候和 一个朋友一起去吃午餐。星期四，一位邻居打电话给她说，她公公的性格是老年痴呆症的可怕影响。星期五，一个儿时的朋友打长途电话告诉我她的父亲去世了。我 挂了电话，想了想，这是太多的心痛了一个星期。通过我的眼泪，因为我出去办点事，我看到窗外的鲜艳夺目的橙色剑兰。我听到我儿子和他的朋友们玩的高兴的笑 声。我看见一个来自邻居家的婚礼聚会。新娘穿着缎和花边，把她的花束抛给她的欢呼的朋友们。那天晚上，我跟我丈夫说了这些事情。我们互相帮助，承认生命的 轮回，并将快乐与悲伤对抗。这足以让我们继续前进。

最后，知道。我知道史葛每天晚上都会给他洗衣服，他会迟到，他会晚到大多数的约会，吃最后一块巧克力在盒子里。他知道我的头枕着枕头睡觉，我会定期把我们关在家里，我也会吃上最后一块巧克力。

我想我们的爱会持续，因为它很舒服。不，天空不蓝：它还是我熟悉的色彩。我们不觉得特别年轻：我们经历了太多的事情，这对我们的成长和智慧有助于我们的身体，并创造了我们的记忆。

我希望我们得到了什么，使我们的爱情。作为一个新娘，我有史葛的婚礼乐队刻着罗伯特的“与我一起变老了！”我们遵循这些指令。

如果一切都是真的，心就会受伤