We sat there in Union Station and ate spaghetti while laughing softly together. It was a time where my hair was long and my smile was genuine.
Pure innocence.
Across from Union Station, in the grass, I kissed your neck for the first time.
Pure ecstasy.
Where we gave each other piggyback rides and chased after squirrels.
Pure happiness.
Where the sun was shining on your beautiful smile and where I realized I was terrified of hurting you.
Pure fear.
The place I think back to when I miss what we used to be.
Pure guilt.
