Some people believe in a "moment." You know, THE moment. The one when
you realize that you’re truly, madly, deeply, head-over-feet, crazy nuts in
love. The one where the whole world turns silver and fuzzy, and a string section the size of a third world country starts
to play a sweeping melody while a gospel choir sings the Handel's Messiah in the background.
I don't believe in moments.
I believe that falling in love is a slow, sneaky process of which we're not always keenly aware. Sometimes, it
creeps up on us when we least expect it, and we look around only to realize that people who didn't matter before suddenly
mean the world.
That's what "A Hundred Years" is
about. Slowly, sneakily falling in love. Being confused, but gratefully so. And, most of all, being comfortable.
