For some, it’s a song — their song — no matter if a million other couples claim it, too. For others, it’s a place: the winding street where they first held hands; the restaurant where the candle sputtered and the night grew vast; the lake where they made love with a passion impossible years later to remember, or forget. Less romantic, but no less enduring, it might be a joke, private and immensely silly; a book; anything love touches and makes its own. The symbol may last longer than the love — haunting with painful memories — or the love may outlive the symbol: the old place torn down; the ring lost; time marching on, and love staying one step ahead.