Have you ever held a delicate petal that's probably been knocked off its flower by gentle spring breeze, and then have the same gentle spring breeze knock it off your hand?
The delicate traces it leaves on your fingers as you try to let go, and then you watch it sift airily away with the wind even though you wanted to hold on a little longer?
You bring your hand to revel in its fragrance, and in that moment you know it's one you probably night never experience again? But you let it go. You just watch its floating movements and wish it doesn't end up trampled on...
That's how I felt everyday I looked at Audrey. Like she was a one time thing. Like I would never quite meet anyone like her. Like even if I could meet others, I wanted to meet her. Her, in particular. Even if she was born as one of a twin set, I would still want her.
