June

It was the beginning of summer, when I first met June. Her curly dark hair fell on her shoulders, and she had that smile, that would make you forget the clouds above you. And even though there was something sad about her, those blue eyes seemed to reflect a part of me. When I told her, she laughed and said that maybe I mean my own reflection in her sunglasses. But I know I did not. I know I could see some of me in her, especially without those glasses. Because thats how I knew. I knew when I met her that day in the park, I knew when we stayed up all night talking.

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