Mums.

There were little things that had been changed. He noticed. All of her home-coming memorabilia had been taken down, probably stored away in some dark box in the attic. He walked in hesitantly as if even a slight change in the air pressure of the room would wipe away the memories that were sitting in his mind at that very moment.

The sheets on her bed were still strewn about the mattress and her pillow still had an indention in it.

The room seemed empty and cold. He drew the blinds and opened the window and sunlight came streaming in and filled the room with a bright 9am shine. On her old trunk were pictures from middle school and high school and from when they were dating senior year. On the bookshelf sat the albums that she had made him for every year of college that they had gone through together. He had never really appreciated them but he went and got them down, one by one, and began to flip through them in chronological order.

He started laughing and having vivid flashbacks but soon it was too much and he just rested, sitting against the wall, crying.

He was not sure if he was crying because he was sad or because of the fact that he couldn't help her in the end. But he knew that he loved her with everything that he was. His whole self. The fullness of what someone had made him to be.

He stole a picture of the two of them from one of the albums and put it in his pocket. It was from that time when they were on that hillside with the sun setting in the background. He liked it because the sun made her hair look like it was on fire.

He placed the albums back on the shelf and looked around one last time. He thought about closing the blinds but decided against it knowing that a room like that should never be dark.