He Was….

He was the first person I had fallen in love with. He was a young man much younger than me.

His was a name I’d too soon forget and get lost in.

It wasn’t because I had too busy a life with everything and more….

It was because he was dearest to me like lemonade on a hot Summer’s day. Red hair the color of Fall leaves and eyes as green as freshly picked apples.

It was because he was dearest to me like the terseness of the sand; the warm breeze on a Spring day. Blonde hair the color of gold and eyes that burnt an auburn fire.

It was because he was dearest to me like the riches of the earth; the warmth of the sun. Brown curls and sapphires for eyes.

It was because he was dearest to me like the deep depths of the ocean; the cold density of the frost. Black hair the color of ravens and galaxies for eyes.

They say you fall in love three times and that there is different love but never the same love twice.

Things change.

Seasons come and go.

Time goes by fast like the second hands of a clock.

We die everyday and so do the moments.

We must make seconds count.

We must make the weeks seem longer.

The more they linger, the more cherished they should be and hold what is dear to us more frequently than once.