What is love?

Previously

…She looked out the window again. The clouds had shifted, their shapes transformed. The light had changed, casting longer shadows. The world was in constant flux, a glorious, ever-changing spectacle. And within that flux, their love was a constant, a quiet hum beneath the symphony of passing years. She felt a deep sense of peace, a profound gratitude for the journey, for the man who had walked it with her, and for the love that had guided their steps. The question lingered, not as a doubt, but as a gentle, poetic wonder. So tell me, time, in your vast span, Can love outlast the finite man? Or is its essence, pure and bright, A star that burns with endless light?