I loved how the Sun embraced your face. How soft the R rolled off your tongue. How the Earth skipped a heartbeat when you frolicked across its surface. I loved the bemused smile on your face whenever I asked a stupid question. I even loved our quarrels. And no matter how passionately I defended any stance I took, in my head, you already had won. I loved how you loved, because — for as long as it lasted — it was real and pure.