It’s been a year. We hold tight unto coffee mugs in our rooms, thinking of drinking the same bitter taste in coffee shops that felt like home while we laughed with songs from the day in our head. The songs still ring in my ears tonight and I remember all the words. It seems like yesterday, you say, but it’s hard to look at old photos and think of it as anything but a distant dream. I think of our conversations then late at night – tucked now back into our past like the flowers we tucked into our hair. I don’t think we would’ve been so fast to tuck them away if we knew what was to come. But then again, I don’t know. We’d lie, now with a year past, if we said everything turned out the way we expected or that it was greater than we dreamed. Such a true statement was said when Scarlett said in Gone With The Wind, “Nothing has turned out as we expected” and Ashley replied “It never does.” It never ever does. However, it has been something. A something we didn’t expect – blurred with disappointments, goodbyes, jealously, illness, and unwanted answers – but it’s been a beautiful something despite all of that. Isn’t that life? A beautiful something despite the trials? Despite we’ve what we’ve been through, what we are bound to, and what people in our world go through, I still believe in a good and right and lovely and worthy world. As we sip this coffee, wishing we had year old coffee instead – we know what a precious world it is and how privileged we are have our memories of one trip a year ago and every day since. In these dimmed lights, we remember faces and conversations and the city that stole us. It still has us, and even in our dreams we see it still. Those city lights illuminate us tonight as they did three hundred and sixty-four days ago.