The scenery looks like something out of a fairytale: the leaves on the trees are the most breathtaking shades of red, yellow, and orange, the sky is slightly dark as the late evening rolls in, and the air is crisp and cool. I’m racing down the street on my bike and relishing the sound of the leaves crunching under the wheels. The streets are slightly damp still from the first storm that brought in the breezy fall winds since summer ended a month ago. The chill can’t penetrate my sweater and jacket, though. I laugh a little to myself as I recall my excitement at being able to wear my favorite wool sweater this morning, since it was finally cool enough outside.

The lazy heat of summer had a hard time making its way out over the past few weeks. The sun was still hot during the day, while the moon brought some relief from the heat. As I race by, I notice a few neighbors have started putting out their Halloween decorations already, like cheesy cardboard witches and mummies scattered over the yard, pumpkins on the porches, and one house even dressed up a whimsical scarecrow in his Halloween best: a witch hat atop his straw head and vampire fangs drawn into his smile.

I suck in a big breath of the crisp air, relishing the way it seems to clear out my lungs. My breath is already fogging up and it trails behind me as I keep exerting myself to get to my destination faster. As I keep going, the houses grow more spaced apart, and I finally hit the unpaved road that is now so familiar. Standing on my pedals, I cruise down the road after having gained some momentum from the hill that leads into Eddie’s trailer park.

There is a windchime on one of the neighbors’ trailers that makes a soft chiming sound with the breeze. The grass is brown and crunches slightly under my boots as I pull to a stop. The air smells slightly of cigarette smoke and perhaps a bonfire from somewhere in the complex. The thought of sitting next to a fire, with a big cozy blanket and a mug of hot chocolate, makes me shudder with delight. The last of daylight slinks away behind the trees, turning the sky a brilliant assortment of colors: purple, orange, yellow, and red. A perfect fall evening. And it’s about to get a lot better, I think, smiling to myself.

Just as I’m leaning my bike against the side of the trailer, the screen door creaks open, and there he is: the bane of my existence, the reason behind my heart picking up tempo, and the subject of all my dreams. Eddie.

He’s wearing his signature black leather jacket over an Iron Maiden t-shirt along with his only pair of jeans with only minimal rips and tears in them. Instead of his usual white Reeboks, he has his favorite pair of beat-up combat boots on. He has an unlit cigarette in the corner of his mouth and he’s wearing a bandana over his bushy brown hair.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says, slamming the screen door shut behind him. My breath catches in my throat when he smiles at me. I run up to him and throw myself at him, inhaling his smoky musk that drives me wild. I hope I never get desensitized to the way he smells.

He chuckles, catching me with his arms and swinging me around in a circle. After we’ve gone a few turns, he plops me back on my feet. His huge brown eyes are looking right in mine. After a few seconds of prolonged eye contact, I pull his bandana down over his eyes and pluck the cigarette from his mouth. “Hey!” he exclaims, righting the bandana and grabbing me around the waist. Thankfully, we both love teasing each other, and we do it to each other all the time. He has one arm wrapped around me and he reaches into his pocket with the other, procuring a lighter. He lights the cigarette for me, and I take a long drag. After, he takes the cigarette back from me.

“Hey, I’ve got to run somewhere quick, but then we can go, okay?”

I nod. “Sure, where are we going?”

He opens the door to his van and hops in. “Just need to stop somewhere really fast.”

I nod again and hop up into the passenger seat, taking the cigarette back from him while he buckles his seatbelt.

Once we pull out of the trailer park, I ask him, “How was Hellfire?”

He smiles after taking a puff. “It was fucking awesome tonight, this campaign is crazy.”

I chuckle and roll the window down, taking a big gulp of the autumn air outside.

While he had Hellfire Club, I worked on homework in front of the fireplace at my house. I found myself able to concentrate for only short periods of time, but then I would anxiously check my watch. I relished the time that Eddie and I spent alone together. Often, after school, we would hang out at his trailer. I would try to get him to work on homework with me, but he is very skilled in the art of distracting me. Eddie is someone who does what he wants and thoroughly enjoys making all kinds of silly excuses to not do things. For example, trying to get him to focus on an assignment is challenging enough, because he knows how easy it is to distract me with his big puppy-dog eyes. Sometimes, I’ll be trying to explain something, and he’ll just be gazing at me with a big, goofy smile on his face.

“Hey, focus!” I exclaimed.

“What? Sorry,” he responded, “I was so distracted by your lips that I didn’t hear a word you said.”

I rolled my eyes, and he would pull my face to his for a kiss. It was very difficult to stop once he started kissing me, and that sneaky devil knew it.

“Eddie, honestly, this is due Friday!” I would say, trying to push him off me.

“What is?”

“This paper for Mrs. King’s class!”

“What paper?”

He would have a look on his face, feigning confusion, but it didn’t last: soon, his signature sneaky smile would play across his face. I gave him a playful smack on the chest, laughing all the while. No matter what, this guy made me laugh like no other.

“Okay,” he said, disgruntled, scooting himself off me and resuming his spot next to me on the bed.

I would start reading a passage aloud from the textbook, and after a few minutes, I would look up at him. He sometimes would get this dreamy look on his face as he looks up at the ceiling, his fingers playing imaginary guitar keys.

“EDDIE!” I would shout, giving his shoulder a push.

“What? Sorry, jeez,” he would say, looking at me again. I know his attention span is very short, and it’s clear he is not even remotely interested in school. Knowing how he is and accepting him for it, I can only do my best to keep his attention and get him to contribute. Normally, I would get increasingly frustrated with his antics, but somehow, I am incapable of getting mad at him. He uses this to his advantage because he exploits it often.

My thoughts are interrupted when the van pulls to a stop in front of a house.

“You okay if I just run in really quick?” he asks me.

“You know I can’t say no to you,” I respond with a chuckle.

He flashes his big smile at me, leans over and kisses me, and says, “Be right back, sweetheart.”

He grabs his metal box from the floor next to his seat and hops out of the van, making his way to the front door of the house.

I sigh. Thankfully I was able to get some homework done tonight, I think to myself.

Trying to balance irresponsible Eddie and keeping up in school can be troubling. As I watch the porch light go on, bathing Eddie in light before he goes inside, I let my mind wander.

Every time I close my eyes, I see his smile and his big brown eyes. When he’s not near, I feel a pang in my chest. Whenever he’s in the same room as me, I automatically feel calmer.

Some of my friends wouldn’t even recognize me now. I used to be more uptight, more of a rule-follower. Now, I’m accompanying Eddie Munson on drug deals and staying out late with him.

Trying to explain my feelings for Eddie was useless to my parents. Their reaction is warranted: they’re worried that Eddie is a “bad boy,” and isn’t good for me. From an outsider’s perspective, it makes sense. To me, it couldn’t be further from the truth.

People look at him and form their opinions based on what they see, but they don’t know Eddie like I do. They don’t see how vulnerable and angelic he looks while he’s sleeping. They don’t take the time to have a conversation with him, to laugh at his jokes, to bask in the warmth of his smile. They don’t bother to watch him play his guitar, and they don’t see him go off into a different world when he gets into it. They don’t see how smooth and practiced his fingers are on the strings. They only see what they want to see, and unfortunately, my parents are still working on warming up to him.

I start thinking about when he first came to my house and met my parents. He wore those dumb cargo pants again, even though he told me he hates them. When I mentioned this, he shrugged and said, “I want to make a good impression.”

“Just be yourself,” I had advised him.

“Don’t worry, parents love me,” he said with a wink.

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “We’ll see about that,” I said teasingly.

He was taking me to a movie but was coming in beforehand to meet my parents. He arrived a few minutes earlier than he told me he would. I was still getting dressed when my mom shouted up the stairs that he was here.

Shit, I hissed to myself. He told me 7:30, and it’s not even 7:20 yet.

I swear, he was the biggest pain in the ass sometimes.

I hurriedly finished getting dressed and thumped loudly down the stairs so they could hear me coming. My mom and dad were standing in the living room, Eddie at the foot of the stairs. I went up to him and grabbed his hand, giving it a quick squeeze.

You’re in for it later, I mouthed at him.

He laughed and just winked at me.

He made conversation with my parents for a few minutes, but I know that they were taking this opportunity to size him up. They probably were confused by the long, shaggy hair being paired with the conservative-looking slacks. The pieces didn’t really fit, but my mom looked at me a few times and smiled, so I’m pretty sure she saw through Eddie’s façade. It was just like when he wore those pants on our first date, trying to impress me, when really, I was much happier with the way he normally looked.

I imagined my mom trying to see what I did in Eddie Munson. I found out that it takes a little time for others to get past the way he looks to see how he really is, and I think she started to see it as she watched me lean into Eddie and him wrap his arm around my waist.

So, THIS is who turned my kid into a love-struck teenager, she probably thought to herself.

Thinking of this, I chuckle to myself. The house has been quiet for a few minutes. I can see shadows of people from the light in the window. The air keeps getting colder, and my breath fogs up in thick clouds. Thankfully, I still feel warm enough. I wouldn’t mind the heater to be on, though.

A few more minutes go by. I lean my head against the window, feeling the icy coolness against my cheek. I let my thoughts go back to that night.

Once we were back in the van, he turned to me and said, “So?”

I buckled the seat belt and said, “So, what?”

“How did I do?!” He asked, like he was amazed that I forgot.

“Oh, that,” I said teasingly, smiling at him.

He started the car and shook his head at me.

“You were fine, babe,” I said to him, checking my lip gloss in the mirror.

“Honestly?” he said.

I turned to him. “Yes, you did exceptionally well. I’m sure they were sold on my Prince Charming.”

He rolled his eyes again, putting the van in drive.

“Come on, I’m just playing with you,” I said, giving his arm a playful push.

He just grunted at me, watching the road as he drove.

“They trust me,” I said, “I’m sure they’ll crack down on my ass if my grades slip because of all the time I spend with you, Eddie Munson, but they know I’m smart. Just as long as I keep up in school and don’t get into trouble, they’re okay with me dating you.”

He looked at me and nodded. “Besides,” I said, “They have probably already realized that it’s futile to try and talk me out of it, since I’m hopelessly in love with you.”

At this, he smiled. It was a small smile, but it spread slowly across his face.

“Really?” he asked. I nodded.

“Awesome, so it’s totally okay if I do this.” Then, he pulled the van to a stop on the side of the street. Before I could ask, he was out of his seat belt and tossing himself over the seat into the back of the van.

He sat on the floor and started unbuttoning his pants. “Um, Eddie…?” I asked, stifling laughter.

He paused, looking at me. “Don’t get too excited, sweetheart,” he said with a laugh. He then pulled a pair of jeans out from somewhere in the back of the van. He struggled to get himself out of the tan pants, but soon, he was in just his skivvies. I tried to contain my laughter, but watching this ordeal was truly hysterical. He had played it off like it was a giant struggle, as if taking his pants off was the hardest thing he had ever done.

He tossed the tan pants into the very back of the van, turning around to flip them off as he did so. Then, he wrestled his jeans on. I was still laughing as he struggled to pull them up over his waist. He finally got them on and climbed back into the front, pretending to stumble and fall on me as he did so.

“Oh my God, get OFF!” I shouted at him as he fell on top of me. I was having trouble breathing, I was laughing so hard. When I couldn’t take it anymore, he finally got off me and back into the driver’s seat, buckling his seat belt like nothing had ever happened. As I tried to catch my breath, he started driving again, but he still had a big smile on his face.

“You are so annoying,” I said to him, giving his shoulder a playful push.

Through his laughter, he said, “But you love me anyway!”

I nodded, my breath suddenly trapped in my throat. “More than you know.”

His smile faded slightly as he turned to look at me. “Are you okay?” he said, not laughing anymore.

I nodded, suddenly finding it hard to speak. I looked down at my hands in my lap. Why do I always do this? Why can’t I just enjoy myself? Don’t have to be such a worrywart all the time.

He reached over with one hand and rested it on my thigh, giving it a quick squeeze. I tucked my hand into his and tried to force myself to take a deep breath.

My reverie is broken when the front door of the house opens and closes, and Eddie trots back to the van. He opens the door and flings himself in the seat, giving me a quick smile as he does so.

“Alright, it’s just you and me now, sweetheart,” he says in his smooth voice.

We drive in silence for a few minutes. I look out the window and watch as the daylight finally fades completely behind the horizon. It has gotten much cooler outside, and I find myself wrapping my jacket tighter around my body.

After a few more minutes, he turns off the street and drives down a small path into the woods. The way is bumpy, and I hold onto the seat to prevent from bouncing around. He smiles and says, “Almost there.”

After a few more minutes of the bumpy path, we emerge into a clearing. It’s almost perfectly circular, and it’s right in the middle of the forest. It’s also on a slight hill, with trees surrounding it on the bottom and an amazing view of the stars. He parks and hops out of the van, stretching his arms.

I get out of the front seat and climb into the back of the van, where there are some old blankets in a pile on the floor. I push a few things out of the way and lie down on the floor, looking at the sky from the windows on the back doors of the van.

After a minute, he gets something from the front seat and clumsily makes his way over to join me. He scoots in next to me and props the other blanket behind our heads, making a pillow. He gets his metal box out and opens it and begins to roll a joint. While he does, I watch my breath make thick clouds in the cold air. I tuck my hands inside the blanket, relishing the feel of the wool against my bare skin. Summer really is over, I think to myself as my breath continues to fog.

Once he’s done rolling the joint, he lights the end of it and takes a drag. He coughs once, and then passes it to me. I huff it in, feeling the burn on the back of my throat. I blow out the smoke, coughing a few times, and then hand it back to him. We each take another drag, then he reaches behind him and pulls a bottle of whiskey out from his backpack.

“Are you trying to get me fucked up?” I ask him.

He laughs. “Maybe I am.”

He opens the bottle, takes a swig, then hands it to me. It feels warm going down my throat. It only takes a few minutes for me to start feeling the buzz of the weed and the liquor.

My head is pleasantly foggy after a while. I find myself just gazing at the night sky through the windows as Eddie scoots down so he’s closer to me. I nuzzle into him and rest my head on his chest, sighing deeply. Now I’m good and buzzed, and I’m very warm next to him and under the wool blanket.

We’re quiet for a while, but then I look up at him. He smiles a dopey smile and kisses me on the forehead. His eyes are soft and sleepy, and it feels like his aura of calm seeps into every pore of my skin. I reach my hands up inside his shirt, right against his skin, and he shivers.

“You’re so warm,” I mumble, feeling slightly more faded as each minute goes by. He moves in closer to me and wraps his arms around me.

We’re quiet for a while, just watching the sky through the windows of the van. Gradually, some thin clouds cover the stars, and the quiet boom of thunder in the distance makes me jump slightly. A few minutes later, gentle rain drops start to patter quietly against the van. In my stupor, this feels like the most magical thing that has ever happened to me. Eddie chuckles at the look on my face and pulls me closer to him.

“It’s so…perfect,” I say quietly. In the haze of the weed and whiskey, the most profound sense of peace washes over me. I watch, transfixed, as the rain drops run slowly over the glass window. Eddie takes another swig of whiskey, and I do too. At this moment, I decide I don’t need anything else: the air itself feels intoxicating. Every frozen breath in my lungs feel like a welcome solace in the heat of Eddie’s body and under the blanket. After a few minutes, I feel too warm. I shuffle out of my coat, and Eddie helps me. Once my coat is off, I start wiggling out of my sweater.

“Damn, baby,” he says, watching me and starting to help. Once I’m in just my bra, I snuggle up under the blanket again and press my hands against his chest, underneath his shirt. He moans quietly. He wraps his arms back around me, kissing the top of my head. After a minute, I start to pull his shirt off.

He chuckles, shuffling out of it, and then pulling the blanket back over us. I lean into his bare chest, relishing the softness and the warmth of his skin. He snuggles me closer, his hands running slowly over my back as he holds me.

“Are you okay?” he asks me after a while. I know he doesn’t mean right this moment; he means overall.

I nod into his chest, not wanting the perfect peace to be interrupted by anxious thoughts. He tilts my face up so I’m looking right at him. He just looks at me, waiting. Despite the fog of the weed, his eyes are soft and caring. I don’t want to disrupt how everything feels with what is buried in the back of my brain.

“I love you,” I say breathlessly.

He smiles at me and gives me a soft kiss. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

I sit up slightly and pull his face to mine, kissing him deeply. A soft moan escapes his throat as he places his hands on the side of my neck. Slowly, the kiss increases in intensity, and I start softly exploring his mouth with my tongue. He has always had an admirable amount of restraint, and he meets my pace perfectly as he keeps his touch soft on my face.

Pretty soon, I find myself climbing on top of him, straddling him and kissing him a little faster. He moves his hands to my sides, moaning a little bit again. Maybe it’s because of the weed and the booze, but we’re both moving very slowly against each other. I am completely engrossed in the moment, no longer feeling the cold. In fact, even with no shirt on, I couldn’t be warmer. His skin feels hot, like how it feels when I press my hands into a heating pad. When I work my fingers into his thick hair, he pulls me closer, continuing to make soft moaning noises.

It seems like we could do this forever. Time appears to stop, and I fail to notice the rain increase in speed as it starts to hammer more loudly against the van. He becomes the center of my world and I find myself getting lost in him. After a while, he places his hands on my waist and guides me back to the floor, scooting himself so he’s on top of me. His hair forms a thick curtain around my face, and I find myself gazing right at him. I run my hands all over his chest, his sides, and his back, and his kiss continues to grow in intensity.

He moves his hands to the waist of my jeans and starts pushing them down lower. I grab his belt buckle and start undoing his belt, and he does the same for me. I feel him pressing against me, and I pull him closer. Throughout the haze of the high, the rest of the world completely disappears. The bite of the cold is kept at bay by the warmth of our bare skin, and the drumming rain fades into oblivion amid our breathing.

He props himself up on one arm and wraps the other one through my hair, supporting my head. He presses his face into the crook of my neck, breathing heavily. I wrap my arms around him, closing my eyes to fully immerse myself in him. His skin feels like fire against mine, and beads of sweat start to cover his back. The pace is soft, slow, like we have all the time in the world. The pure ecstasy of the moment is more intoxicating than all the drugs in the world.

Maybe it’s just the weed, but it feels like we meld together perfectly, becoming one. As the sensation begins to build, very slowly, I match my breaths to his. He kisses me deeply, and I pull him in deeper, as if there was a way we could be even closer to each other. His breath quickens, and I wrap my fingers into his hair and close my eyes. A grand swooping sensation, like I’ve suddenly been lifted high above the ground, starts at my core and rocks my whole body. He goes with me, sighing loudly as he presses my head against his collarbone. He rests his face between my neck and shoulder, peppering my skin with soft kisses.

Some time goes by, who knows how long, while we both catch our breath. He lifts up his head, smiling at me, and presses a kiss to my forehead. We’re both glistening with sweat, and the chill from outside starts to break through the tepid ambiance. I shiver, and he pulls the blanket tightly over both of us. Once we’re both wrapped up like a tight burrito, I press into his chest and twirl a lock of his hair in my fingers.

It’s quiet for a while as we both huddle close, listening to each other breathe. He sits up for a moment and digs a cigarette out of his pants pocket and lights it. The warmth of the flame feels incredible. He takes a drag of the cigarette, sighing deeply after he does. He passes it to me and I take a drag, relishing the flood of nicotine through my veins. I get slightly light-headed from the rush and hand it back to him.

“When times like this end, sometimes it feels like I’m crashing…like I was flying in a plane, and then it slowly starts losing altitude until it crashes entirely.” As I say them, the words feel hazy. My head feels delightfully fuzzy, and even though the words sound stupid as I say them, in my head it makes perfect sense. Eddie chuckles, taking another drag of the cigarette. He places another kiss on my forehead.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” he says, and to me it sounds kind of like a purr.

“It’s not just that,” I say, giving him a reproachful look, “it’s everything. Like, everything just makes sense now, when it all felt confusing before.”

He nods slowly, taking another drag of the cigarette. His eyes are cloudy, unfocused, but he has a look of soft bliss on his face. Every muscle in my body feels like jelly pressed up against him. I start to wonder how long it will take me to get my feet under the ground again.

“I’m pretty freaking bonkers about you, Eddie,” I say, looking at him and smiling.

He laughs. “That might just be the after-sex glow or whatever.”

I shake my head. “It isn’t, I promise. Even before I slept with you, I felt like this.”

He faces me, meeting my eyes. “Are you sure it’s not just the weed? That’s good stuff.”

I shake my head more fiercely. “No, jeez fine, I’ll shut up.”

He grabs my face and pulls it right up to his face. He’s got a gauzy sheen to his eyes, but he still looks directly into my eyes.

“I think you love me,” he says, smiling.

“I know I do,” I respond, smiling back.

He kisses me, long and deep. I press into him again, suddenly dreading when the time comes to leave this place. I pull away from the kiss and rest my head against his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat and the rain pattering against the window. It is falling gently again, the drops glistening against the glass. We both just lie there and watch the drops shimmy down the window. Eventually, the buzz from the substances begins to drift away slowly, and that slow descent I dread begins. I sigh and feel tears start to burn behind my eyes, but I quickly wipe them away before Eddie sees.

Thankfully, he doesn’t notice as he starts searching the blankets for our clothes. He finds his t-shirt, which I snatch out of his hands. I pull it over my head, relishing the feel of the soft cotton against my chilled skin. It feels like his warmth is slowly seeping out of the fabric, and it doesn’t take long until I feel warm and cozy in his shirt. He chuckles and pulls his jacket on, gathering my own sweater and jacket up. I’m not sure it’s possible for him to get any sexier, but him wearing just his jacket without a shirt almost makes me want to rip it off him.

Once we’re dressed and the cigarette is put out, he rolls down the windows to let the smoke out of the van. I get into the passenger seat and buckle up, watching him as he buckles himself into the driver’s seat. He notices me watching him and smiles at me. Then, he starts the van and turns around, leaving the clearing behind us. As we drive, the high of the weed starts to fade gradually, and the warmth in my belly from the whiskey has all but disappeared. It feels like I was just someplace warm, and now I’m being dropped in cold water.

In what feels like no time at all, we’re parked outside my house. I check my watch, and I sigh with relief as I realize that Eddie has gotten me home before my curfew.

He unbuckles his seat belt and leans over to me, kissing me. I close my eyes and get lost in him, never wanting the moment to end. Eventually, he pulls away slightly, taking my hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“Until the morrow, my fair maiden,” he says softly with a sneaky smile.

“I don’t want to leave you,” I whisper, wishing desperately that I could fall asleep in his arms.

“I know,” he says, “But it’s a school night. I don’t want your parents to keep you away from me if you get in trouble.”

I smile, feeling tears burn at my eyes again. I kiss him again, even though it takes everything in me to hold myself back from pouncing on him. I hop out of the van, clutching my sweater in my arms. As I walk to the door, I turn around and look back at him. Through the window, I see that smile on his face that I love so much. Before he can see tears in my eyes again, I turn around and go into the house.

Once my face is washed and my teeth are brushed, I cuddle up into my comforter, relishing the feel of the smooth sheets against my skin. Maybe I am still a little high, I think, chuckling to myself. I still have Eddie’s shirt on, and I press it into my face, inhaling the sweet smokiness. The shirt is old, so the cotton is slightly frayed, and the graphic is faded, but it feels like I’m surrounded by him. Maybe, I can fall asleep thinking I’m with him.

But as I close my eyes and try to sleep, the anxious thoughts that he kept at bay all night start to creep into my head.

Does this kind of thing happen to other people? I mean, whatever is happening to me is not normal.

What does this mean? Once we graduate, what then?

The thought of being without him makes me feel sick to my stomach. No matter how hard I try to keep myself in the present, disquieting thoughts sneak up on me when my guard is down. I can’t see myself doing anything, going anywhere, without him beside me.

How am I supposed to go on without that smile of his? Can I go any stretch of time without hearing him laugh? Will there be a time when I don’t fall into his arms at the end of a long day?

I remind myself that we’re both young, and that I need to hold on to these feelings for dear life, because life and its cruelties could sneak up on me and rob me of everything he has made me feel since I met him. I roll up into a fetal position, wishing desperately that he was next to me to soothe my restless thoughts.

What I’m feeling is so painfully real that part of me wonders what the hell I even did before I saw him for the first time, yucking it up with his Hellfire Club friends. If I made any good friends here before meeting him, they probably would have told me all about big, bad Eddie Munson. I’m not sure that anything they said would keep me away from him, though. At lunch, I would find myself glancing at him frequently, watching the way his arms moved when he was talking, the way his curls tumbled as he shook his head, and the way a smile found its way across his face. He was charismatic and witty, goofy and whimsical, and had a piercing gaze like nothing I had ever seen.

Eventually, to give my brain a break from these thoughts, I grab my Walkman and listen to a CD on low volume. As the music fills my ears, I feel my eyes finally getting heavy. A quiet peace returns as I let myself think only about him and everything that I love about him. I replay snapshots of our time together in my mind, and I find myself smiling as I drift off to sleep. The last thing I see is his big smile, and I swear I can hear his velvety voice, saying, “Good night, sweetheart.”