I look at her from across the green marble counter. She’s laughing at a joke I have forgotten; yet in this moment we are happy. I take a mental picture of her, filing it away with memories of parks, lazy days at the beach, and nights spent watching movies in comfy old leather couches. Her hair curls perfectly around her face framing her smile. As I look at her, I realize for the first time that she smells like summer, like sunscreen, fishing trips, and long hikes on hot summer evenings. Her laugh is the sound of brightly colored carousels and cotton candy machines. We continue to laugh, the joke long forgotten. We watch each other, thinking our separate thoughts, living in the same moment. The laughing stops when our stomachs hurt and we can hardly breath. And in that moment I see us reading books together on a lazy morning after eating bacon, tired from a sleepless sleepover. But most of all I hear the light buzzing of bees in the background, I smile remembering that day.

“Nolwenn, what’s so funny?” she asks her voice soft like the patter of snowflakes on a snow day.
“Nothing” I answer as she pulls me out of my reverie and the conversation starts again as if nothing had ever happened.