Years ago lost loves could be peered at through rose tinted glasses. They would be forever young, or at the very worst young looking with a few silver streaks. A bit like this :
Teenage memory
Twenty years later
By the magic of modern day google I could and did search out my lost one. Turns out he's more like this:
Teenage memory
Twenty years later
(but soooooo much wider too so more like this)
The moral of the story is that memories are generally better than an up to date fat middle aged bald golfing reality and that it's much better to enjoy what you've got rather than hanker after the past. Things are never as good as you remember.
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