In my mind, all the recent summers kind of float together, mixing and meshing into a big grey pot of beginnings and endings and wistful in-betweens that mostly happen in the afternoontime. I don't think I really even live during the afternoontime (the night is too near, and therefore my heart is too full), so you can imagine my confusion when strange things start to happen and turn my life into a beautiful, upside-down thing.
You are my darling, and I am yours.
And then they would ask:
"What did you want to be when you grew up?",
to which your voice dripped words like honey--
"I wanted to be everyone's ideal girl."
and then you were.