An olive leaf will never fall off.

Loyalty? Persistence? Devotion? The norm? It actually matters not what you call it.

For an olive leaf is all the peace in the world, and you, my dear, are the only world I know, and only in those mystical eyes of yours I can feel peace, love, and all those meanings that reside in your very soul. You, dearest, are that essence that I, frankly, don’t know what to call!

I, truthfully, know that it does matter to call you something, yet how can a lost seeker find names to call you with, while he’s utterly incapable of finding his very self within those memories of yours?

It’s not only that I don’t know what to call you, I really don’t know if other paths exist, for all the roads I hit, the paths I took, and dreams I pursued, only led to you.