You were so soft, and sweet, and awkward. We met at the ghetto Savers on Lake Street in the fall of 1994. I saw you in line behind me, and thought you were cute. So I waited for you outside so that I could scratch my phone number on a torn piece of paper and hand it to you. I was starting my life over again, and something about you needed to be a part of me. I just knew it right then. I liked how tall you were, and your messy, brown hair. You were so quirky and strange, but unbelievably creative and talented. When you touched me everything felt so innocent. When I touched you, I couldn't help but smile. The day with you that I love looking back upon most, was the day I experienced my first snow here. We had slept on your mattress on the floor the night before, in your huge room that had the red velvet flocked damask wallpaper, and pea green 1960's carpet. I remember sitting up slightly in bed, half asleep, quiet, and groggy, and warm, and I peeked out of the window to see piles and piles of snow everywhere! I think it could've been one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. When we got up we walked around in it, somewhere. Maybe to get breakfast or something, I can't recall. That first Minnesota snow was really super great, though...
Today is the first snowfall of the season, and it's a similar snow to that day in 1994.
