Our love was dangerous.

It was asking me to come with him.

It was "South it is, brown eyes."

It was dancing in the rain on the hood of his car.

It was making dents that only we knew.

It was living in the moment and making memories and deals.

It was being in love and having your heart ripped from your chest. Here you take it, I don't want it anymore. It was that kind of shit.

It was "Please don't do this, not here."

It was here now, listen to me.

It was waiting, I water, and we waited. Nothing.

It was remembering every detail, everything that made him Dylan Wade and remembering nothing at all.

Author: Shey Stahl