You were always young. You were young in your strange, violet eyes, and young in your fleeting smile, in your tanned olive skin. You were young in your sun-kissed locks that you always, always, always shook out from your eyes. You laughed like the rain and slept like the moon and I had always loved you. You were lionhearted and solid and strong. You were forever in bloom. I had loved you when you were like this, you know.