Your Voice Was The Soundtrack Of My Summer

I used to believe in true love at first sight. I used to believe in its lies and its outcome. It's still not true. There's nothing we can do to change that fact. We're only a bunch of hopeless romantics wishing and wishing for true love, hoping and hoping for a happily ever after. All we get is a nothing remotely even close, and only the lucky ones live to fulfill that chance of finding love.

Summer love can change everything.

A love that wasn't supposed to happen. A love that wasn't supposed to bloom. A love that had it's entities, but its drawbacks.

This is me remembering blue eyes, a strikingly familiar presence I wasn't much accustomed to. You haven't seen blue if you haven't seen her eyes. They weren't radiant sapphires collecting rainbow spectrums in the light. Or glaciar frigid blue where her eyes glazed over with some sort of impertinent hatred and frosty passion.
They were eyes about to cry, but yet no tears came out. They were eyes too blue to be gray and too gray to be blue. They were eyes about to cloud over, about to glaze over with gray clouds and pelting rain.

This is me remembering falling in love with those blue eyes, when love was considered a synonym for BS.

This is me falling in love with someone I never thought I could love.

Her name was Indigo Saunders.

My name was Paul DiGiovanni.

OUr love was rare. So rare it could only last for so long. But what we had was a true love that came only once a century. It skipped a couple generations, came back for those who needed love the most. If love is even a word.

And so this, is a tale of the hopeless romantics. A love that wasn't supposed to happen. A love that happened to two people searching and searching for something and found it in the form of each other.

This is Indigo's story. This is my story. This is our story.