Remember when we stood side by side, Alma, in those corridors of dark? With littered, half-opened boxes and the smell of hope in the air. The fragrant air of belonging, of beginnings, and of us. Lights lined the horizon before us, but we stared at each other, hands reaching for their counterparts. We never touched then, but we’ve touched since. Back then, in a different world, those boxes called for us to explore them. Those lights asked silently for us to make them even brighter with our love, our explorations. The stone floor spread before us, and we waited for a call. A call that never came to us, so we started on our own. And now, Alma, all these years later, I hold your hand and remember those nights when we were just teens again and our road was fresh.