It is the way your scarlet curls fall around your eyes and the way we feel sparks when our skin touches just because we think we should, just because they tell us too. It is the way I sit criss-cross applesauce in my bed with the covers over my head and the way the breeze comes in through the window at night. It is the way I wear your camouflage shorts every time I miss you and the way the sun looks in my room at five 'o' clock in the afternoon. It is the way I never like the way I look and the way your lips feel against my cheek. It is the way you always order my food for me at Denny's and the way I always I get mad when you do it, just because that is the way it has always been. It is the way you sleep with one leg out of the covers and the way I steal all five of the pillows. It is the way you gaze into my eyes after weeks of being apart and the way I melt every time you do so. It is the way we wait and sit and wish for something to share even after our chance at sharing is long, long over, because the little things are so beautiful and strange, but true. Oh, so true.

I am not a little girl.

Not the Same

My feet grazed the cement softly, quietly. The Golden Gate Bridge stretched up above my head, straight into the mist of the San Francisco sky and I was floating, floating, floating into the air. The arms of this man walking next to me made the butterflies fly inside. It was you. There was an electricity within the space between us... so thick it became tangible. I could have touched it with my fingertips if I dared. You weren't any different than before, what with your scruff and careless appearance... but that just made you all the more beautiful. Your steps were long beside mine, but you slowed down as I fell behind, like the perfect perfect gentleman. I could tell you were thinking about your bike, though. How swift and fast you could be riding along the edge, with a view right down into the gray and murky waters. The wind blowing your hair back. Goosebumps on all your bare skin. Fog settling onto your face as you rode right into it. But as the end of the bridge came into view, you grabbed me and spun me into your arms, cradling me tight and loose all at once. I inhaled your scent: pine trees, ocean air, and hot chocolate. You leaned your face into my neck, kissing me with closed lips as you moved up, up, up. Then you whispered into the depths of my brain, exhaling your breath and words onto my ear lobe, warm and gentle. I could feel it all the way down to my toes like a shiver in the middle of winter.

"I don't want to have to say goodbye."

"Then don't," I said, my words barely even words, but merely a breath with sound, with meaning. I took your arms into my small hands, forcing your eyes to look directly into mine. "This time doesn't have to be the same."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"I..I.."

"No, don't say it."

"Why not?"

"Silence... silence is golden."