The first time I ever looked into your eyes, and I mean really looked, I saw a future. I fell into a pool of baby blues, singing sweet tunes of tomorrow, while I drank up the seemingly eternal summer reflected in your eyes. They spoke of promises of forever, lives intertwined underneath the sun, our happily ever after.

When you looked into my eyes, and I mean really looked, you got lost in your version of forever. Swirls of dark chocolate enticing you to come closer, taste, see, feel a world you had never before ventured. You told me you loved them, and I yours. While I sank deeper into your blues, you fell for my dark browns. Mine spoke of promises of eternity: growing old together, cozy and safe in our happily ever after.

Tell me, did you see a future, too? I saw my summer, and you saw your fall. Maybe, just maybe, for a second in our versions of forever, we found our missing pieces.

Summer went away as fast as he came. Fall was fleeting in her beauty and existence. Winter settled soon after: long and harsh in its nature. Summer lost his glimmer. Fall lost her spark. Winter came to drown them both in heavy, unrelenting blankets of ice. Where did our forever go? Did it only last till the seasons changed? Perhaps we were both wrong.

The blues that once shone turned to ice. The dark chocolate that once told stories of warmth turned to dust. Tell me now, how was it possible that whenever I wept, I shed tears of blue? It never made sense to me how fall could rain in blue.

It’s funny how years later, the very last time I looked into your eyes, and I mean really looked – my favorite color, my favorite place to get lost, once upon a time my forever summer – all I could see were fragments of our past, broken forever.