Letting Go

Meeting

I remember each time we met. I remember your trench coat that you wore even when it wasn't raining. I remember your gentle laugh. I remember your guitar case that carried around, but never opened. I remember every time we met.

I remember when we met outside of the café. It was petrifying, but that's okay. I was with you and that's all that mattered. We were in the park, remember? The shade of green from the trees made your eyes stand out perfectly, your pale skin tone was bright against the gray sky, and your smile was as as gorgeous as always. We talked for about three hours before your guitar case came up.

"So, do you play around people?" I said with a shred of confidence I didn't even know I had.

"Of course, but then I have to cut them off." You said with a witty chuckle.

"Well, then it's all the more tempting to hear." I looked down in hopes that you find my cry for help as a joke. To this day, I don't believe you actually did.

"Then I guess that means we'll have to meet again, doesn't it?" You smirked and stood up.

"By the way what's your name?" You asked so cheerfully as you reached your hand out to help me off the grass.

"Ella, and what's yours?" I asked with a grin.

"Evan." You sang as you walked away, guitar case in hand, and slight jump in your step.