You probably don’t know, but I wrote about you at the start of this. Together. There was something that facinated me about it. Something more like a research projec than anything. When He told me we’d be like this, well, how could I ever understand what He meant? How? I didn’t know. And yet, we became, and about you, I still write. That place became a home in those days, because of you. And this beauty still astounds me. You still make it home here, the same. But that year, with every night, I would bottle and put in a trophy, and keep it to adore forever, if the moments could only be held and shown to feel what the air was there in 208. It would. It would be something to make me remember, always.

Only to remember, that we lived, and we still live.

I love you.

…because love wins.

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