I wish you were here right now, to see what I can see, to feel what I am feeling. I wish you could feel the warm evening summer breeze delicately brush past your skin and blow through your hair. I wish you could look up and see the feather-like pine boughs floating overhead, with the warm sun’s glow illuminating them and making them one flaming pine. I dearly wish that you could see the sunlight dancing with the shadows on a carpet of cool, green grass. I wish you could hear the heart-warming sound of children laughing in the distance. That you could take a long, deep breath of the jasmine infused air. I wish that you could salute the majestically grand veteran American Flag, which waves triumphantly yet solemnly in the summer zephyr. That you could close your eyes with me and listen to the leaves rustle as the wind tousles them. I wish you could sit here with me, our backs to the cool grass, and watch the lazy clouds drift aimlessly through the sky as the sun gradually sinks behind the hills, only to appear again tomorrow and illuminate the world with more warmth and brightness. I wish you were here: experiencing the very epitome of perfect beauty. I wish you were here with me. But you can never be here with me, experiencing this. Because, by the time you read this, all of it; the perfect beauty, will be only a very distant memory. All the same, I still wish you were here.
Me in the Past.