Nemophilist

I remember when we first met. You were nine, and I was a goner. Your family moved from New York to here; the only thing that was interesting in town was the abnormal number of toads in the summer, and your smile. I think from that moment, I knew it was love or at least something that presented itself as love, I was never quite sure. I’ve never been very good with expressing the way that I feel, I’m sure you have come to notice over the past years.

Did you know that your mother hasn’t smiled since the day you died?