When did that seven-year-old love story lose itself to the life of another once upon a time? I cannot remember. Those floor-to-ceiling glass windows surround me now.
He looks at me. Those gray-blue eyes bore into mine. How do you let go of a face so beautiful and so familiar?
I lean in. Je ne sais quoi, but something is missing.
These days, I find that more than ever, I am chasing the wild drive I possessed at fifteen, instead of gunning for the fruition of such ambition.
