My dearest of dears, if only in the back of my mind. How quickly our sun has set. December will soon be upon us once more, but I, I'm still in September. And I still miss you. I miss the flames that played through our fingertips and set light upon our faces, all the passion and happiness surging in, around, and between two separate bodies. I miss the beatific load I carried in my heart in the autumn on the way to see you, smiling at my feet as they stirred up transfigured leaves, the wind puffing through my then shoulder length hair. Your eyes, so blissfully wide and simpering at my approach, amber in essence, but dark brown in reality. I remember lying across from you and staring into those round orbs of a deeper void, and I saw true love for the first time. I never wanted it to end. I never fathomed that it should have to.
Alas, dawn turned into day, who shook hands with dusk, and was introduced to night. Oh, and how long that night lasted. I still shake from the nightmares