When I’m in the grocery store and I see kombucha, she’s there. If I turn on the radio and they play an old One Direction song, I think of how she used to listen to their music on repeat in middle school. When I see snow, I see her in each flake that falls, the dreamy look she always gets on the first snow day. And if I walk into the ice cream aisle, I recall how after her bad breakups she’d turn on A Walk to Remember and cry into a pint of brownie batter ice cream once she thought everyone was asleep. Every childhood memory, every teenage mishap, she was there in some way.
