As we get old, with hair as white a snow, may our friendship continue to grow, If there is to ever be distance, between us may we not feel the gap, for our heart is so close.

My heart breaks watching you grow older and to think our roles will reverse. When I am laying in bed hopelessly with a sickly body and a baby mind with no recognition of who you are or my own name, may god give you patience & understanding to understand you are now the mother of me.

I love to see old women. I love wrinkles. I love gray hair.

Ad we interviewing each other?
Something like that.
What position am I applying for?
Best friend.
I thought I already had the job.
Don't be so sure, you arrogant son of a bitch.

Why do you speak like we won’t meet again for such a long time?”
“Because we didn’t, for such a long time,

Gray hair is God's graffiti.