We drove to Rouse’s Point and got sandwiches from Sandy’s Deli, to go. That picnic dinner on the breakwater, with just a little bit of spray flicking us as the water hit the rocks, is one of the best memories I’ve ever made with you. You finished your BLT before I was even half-done my club sandwich, because I was too busy telling you stories about my grandparents and great-grandparents to eat, so you took a selfie while my mouth was full, and kept it. We took a cheesy picture of our shoes, your right, my left, like a couple might, even though we’re just best friends, but maybe that’s enough for now, because you kept that, too.
The wind is howling, and I can barely see the graveyard out my window through all the snow. It’s safe and warm in my room, but the draft in my window, and the the wail of the wind against it keeps me awake, and thinking of you. Hoping you’re safe, inside your own room, away from this winter storm.