AUGUST 1933

We never painted by the numbers, baby
But we were making it count

You know the greatest loves of all time are over now

It's been fifteen years this month since I met Jay, and ten since his light went out. Those five glittering years was our story, from the brilliant aurora beginning, to the cold twilight end.

From a distance it looks like a Bront? or Wharton novel. But there is more passion than Wuthering Heights, more scandal than the Age of Innocence and more tragedy than the House of Mirth. Our story is a beautiful mess of laughter and desire and fear.

But as I decided the night before he went dark, I was different person at the start of our story than I was at the end. At the start, we were both bright as stars, by the end we were both cold. But death made Jay cold. I was made cold by my own cowardice and weak heartedness. If I had been as brave at the end as I was at the beginning, Jay and I could be anywhere in the world together, as bright as we used to be.

But my light went out somewhere in the middle of those five years. And then years ago this month, Jay's did too, like an angel blowing out a candle.

And now the story is over, there is no more hope. All I can do is dream of what might have been.

But we were something, don't you think so?

Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool

And if my wishes came true

It would've been you

In my defense, I have none
For never leaving well enough alone

But it would've been fun

If you would've been the one