We walked, her and I, through the mountain, as we had made a tradition out of every year. It started with an annual school-trip, and we soon discovered we could leave and do whatever we pleased all day, instead of staying and being subjected to the "higher ups" wrecking what little of nature is left on this godforsaken planet.
"So, Do you feel the allure of the earth?", I asked. A confused glance came across her face, and then a blissful smile, perhaps not so blissful to her, but to myself, it was like a bolt of ecstasy in a puddle of darkness. The scenery was beautiful, early autumn, high mountain, leaves, new England shrubbery, and sun all lining up in that way which God decided was transcendental of human understanding and language. I put my arm around her then, and just stared out over the scenery. How rarely I felt at peace like this, and how little she knew.
It's true, I wanted to tell her everything, for so long now. How I felt (not about her, she knew that), but abou