An anniversary, a familiar hand in yours — we live as though it can be extended forever. Śrī Prem Prayojan Prabhu says it plainly: worldly people come in just two kinds — those whose heart is already broken, and those whose heart will be broken. There is no third kind, because every love here is anitya, impermanent: one person never finds it and suffers, another finds it and one day loses it. You may dance with your beloved, but there will be a last dance. You may kiss, and there will be a last kiss. This is inevitable. It is almost unbearable to hear, so we invent a consolation: we will meet again in the next life, in these very same forms. Yet even in this life we do not keep the same form for a moment.