dive in fearless

That day, it was your birthday. Everyone was making jokes about how “old” you were turning - 25 years young - and we instead wrote ‘Happy 30th!’ on a purple balloon. It was your favorite color, and only I knew that. Then, somehow I convinced everyone to take the balloon and sneak up behind you, surprising you with the birthday song. It would annoy and embarrass and make you happy all at once, and only I knew that. Picking out the perfect moment, I shuffled everyone along, pretending to follow but standing back. As soon as they were off, I felt second-hand embarrassment as every employee began to sing happy birthday. You managed to look through all the heads in front of you, and find where I was leaning against the wall laughing. You gave me your sideways smirk. In that look, those four seconds of a glance, I knew it then. I knew it then just as I knew it the night we were sitting in our perfect section of the bar. One margarita too many, you had me crying about having to leave for school in two months. No matter how much I try to let go of these memories, the longing for your smile and your beautiful eyes, they cross my mind more than I wish to admit.