I Remember

Dear Mamá

March 14

Dear Mamá,

It's been over two months now since I've seen you. I've missed you from the moment you left, and as the days go by the pain only gets worse and worse. You were right when you said absence only makes the heart grow fonder.

It's almost spring here, your favorite season. You and Jaime would like it. Mr. Sumner just put out his newest batch of flowers, those baby blue ones you used to place on the kitchen table. I can't bring myself to buy any, though- every time I see them, all I can think of is you. Your warm eyes, just a shade lighter; your favorite dress, the one you insisted on wearing to every gathering and wouldn't be caught dead without.

Blue was your favorite color, our favorite color. Even Jaime liked it best. He'd really love being here, the sky is the most beautiful azure today, and the pond is so clear I can see the fish swimming beneath the water. It reminds me of when the two of us used to jump in and try to catch them.

But I don't think I like blue quite as much anymore. I don't know, maybe I'm just looking at the wrong baby-blue flowers. You used to tell me to look for rainbows in the rain, and stars in the dark. Maybe I just haven't found my starry night yet.

Whatever the case, I love you and miss you. Hope to see you soon.

With love,

Mateo

Mateo stared at the paper in his hands for a few seconds, startled when a tear splashed onto it. He didn't even know he'd been crying. Oh well, a little more blue can't hurt. He must have looked pretty pathetic, sitting here on a beautiful early spring day, crying over a crumpled up piece up paper that would inevitably end up in his bedside drawer (just like all the rest). And this was only confirmed seconds later when he felt a slender hand on his shoulder, a shadow falling over him.

"Hey, man, are you okay?" the figure bending over him asked softly. At first, Mateo couldn't even bring himself to raise his head, too embarrassed at having been caught like this, but he knew he'd have to answer eventually.

"Yeah, sorry," he started, slowly raising his head. "I'm fine, I just-" His words caught in his throat as he gazed into the most dazzling pair of eyes he'd ever seen. He saw stars in the depths of royal blue. This has to be the most beautiful boy I've ever seen in my life.

". . .you just?" The concern flooding his eyes only made them that much more captivating as the strange, beautiful boy knelt down on the ground in front of Mateo. "Are you sure you're fine?"

Navy. That's what color they were. Navy. This gorgeous person kneeling in front of him had navy eyes, and he was drowning in them. God, how much he wanted to let himself, let himself stay in those mysterious pools and just be, just forget about everything bad in the world and just be Mateo again. And for a second, he almost did. He almost, almost forgot about why he'd been sitting in a park on a beautiful early spring day, crying over a crumpled piece of paper fated to end in a musty old drawer. Almost.

But then it all came flooding back to him, and suddenly those warm, deep navy eyes he already loved became blurry, and he realized he was crying again. And he couldn't stop.

"Hey, hey, it's okay! Don't cry, what's wrong?!" the man panicked, as if he believed he could ever be the reason for this.

But Mateo could barely listen, he was full on sobbing now. He'd been trying to ignore it, he really had, but something inside him had snapped, and it was too late to stop. Mamá! I'm so sorry, Mamá, it's all my fault. . . If he had just listened. . . I knew it was going to storm! I knew it!