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February 14, 2012
I had planned to revisit "our" tree with you on the one-year anniversary of our first (and only) evening with it. I had planned to stand with you beneath it again, whispering sweet nothings, somethings, and anythings under cover of darkness, pillow talk with no pillows, trusting you and our tree to keep our secrets safe. I wanted to trace our initials on its bark with our fingertips. I wanted to lose my hands in your hair. And lose myself with you. Instead, I lost you. And I couldn't find that tree on my own now if I wanted to.