I was talking to an old friend recently. She was in love with this boy. Hearing her talk about him, he seemed like a cool guy. One of those people you’d like to be friends with. She talked about how he said all these things that at the time she didn’t understand and could only appreciate later.

She was outside with him.

The sky was beautiful. It was the type of sky that only comes around every once in a while. When I think of it, I imagine a splash of purples and oranges. The clouds would be illuminated in such a way that the shadows would fully define their fluffy, irregular shape.

She saw that the sky was beautiful and wanted to keep it, put it in her pocket.

She exclaimed, “The Sky is so beautiful! Take a picture of it!”

He looked at her quizzically. “Whatever for?”

“So you can keep it and look at it later.”

He shook his head, “No, I’m going to enjoy it right now. Taking a picture would only ruin it. When it’s gone, it’s gone.”

She gave him a weird look, not understanding what he meant. He said a lot of strange things that she didn’t understand.

Only later when he’d left, would she understand.