We are all antiques. As old and broken as an antique. We all get rusty and dusty. We get older by the day. We all become the remains of an era. A part of an history that’s long gone. But then, hundreds of years later, there will be this person who will dust the dirt off from us, put on some Polish on us, knows where we are broken and sit in one corner and appreciate our beauty. You will find yours!