The Memory of You

The last thing I remember of him is his smile. It was bigger than should be possible. Brighter than the sun on a summer's day. It shone as leaves fell, surrounding us in a swirl of amber. Fall was brought to life as summer took off in an unknown direction. I couldn't even begin to explain what winter brought in its frigid hands. The heartache was long past me in my age, but there still remains a small throb when I reflect on what I had lost that wretched day. I will always regret what I failed to do, and though the memory of it ails me, I could never wish to forget the memory of you.