I leaned in and kissed her. I kissed her like I should have fifteen years ago. I kissed her with no reservations but with love and softness. I kissed her like I should have every damn day since I met her. I kissed her like I loved her, because I did. I loved that she didn’t fit in any damn box I tried to put her in, that she kept me on my toes, that she sacrificed herself for others, and that she’d sacrificed our love at one point. She was selfless and good and bad in all the best ways possible.
