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.

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