As I watched the raindrops racing each other down the misty windows, I remembered early winter mornings. I remembered our long walks and our loud laughs. I remembered looking at odd trees, with their roots upturned. I remembered the things we said, and the things we meant. The things we thought, and the things we had imagined.
You looked at me with a forgiving smile, telling me that my jumper was too bright. I told you that I liked it that way. You told me that we would have the best lives, and I believed you. I still do. I know that my bright jumpers will lighten your mood, and that there will come a time when you’ll wear the sunshine, too.
Our long walks will, someday, be just another story. But they’ll be a good one to tell in twenty years.