It was a moment, like a dream.
The bittersweet strings of a violin wrapped themselves around my heart and clenched, whispering, “remember, remember.”
a familiar breeze brushed my face and whipped through my hair as I gazed out at Siena’s magnificent beauty – under that different sun.
It all came rushing back at once. All of it.
All the laughter and the tears and the dances we did under a silver moon. The way you looked at me.
Everything I’d ever felt all wrapped up in a moment, this moment.
The fucking love of it.
I cried and cried and grabbed my chest. “My heart,” I sobbed, as my friends threw their arms around me.
My Siena… forever in my heart.
But I think maybe it wasn’t you at all, Sweetheart.
It was love.