She smelled of the sweetest summer, but felt as cold as winter. I remember the first night I got lost in her eyes; the first night I got lost in her. With whiskey on her breath she smiled and whispered hello. I was nothing, but a stranger. She was nothing, but a dream. I always thought brown eyes were dull and boring until I saw hers. They told the saddest stories; stories she herself would never tell. I had never been in love nor desired it, but seeing her… feeling her, made me realize why people long for such affection. I didn’t want to just be seen by her, I wanted to be known by her, I wanted to be desired by her. With a drunken stumble we made it to my apartment that first night. It was with that same drunken stumble that she left for good a year later. She smelled of the sweetest summer, but she was the coldest winter.

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