It took me two months to fall in love with your laugh, your smile, your eyes. Two months to fall for your stories about high school and the way you talk about your mom. Eight weeks was all it took to be completely captivated by everything you were. The way you walked, the freckles on your arms, the deep breaths you took when you were focusing as hard as you could. And I swore that you were heaven shaped into a man and that if I could just pretend that you would stay forever, maybe it would be true. But just like my dad told me when I was little, good things never really last and boys who look like they can give you the world would rather hold oceans and mountains before they'd ever dream of holding you. You couldn't give me the world but I hope you at least take the sand with you when you go.