Look At It This Way:

I Eased Back On My Elbows, Tilting My Head Back To Look Up At The Sky, Which Was Pinkish, Streaked With Red. This Was The Time We Knew Best, That Stretch Of Day Going From Dusk To Dark. It Seemed Like We Were Always Waiting For Nighttime Here. I Could Feel The Trampoline Easing Up And Down, Moved By Our Own Breathing, Bringing Us In Small Increments Up And Back From The Sky As The Colors Faded, Slowly, And The Stars Began To Show Themselves.

Then I'd Crawl Back Into Bed, Smelling Her All Around Me, And Tell Myself That Next Time, I Would Lock That Window. But I Never Did.

I Wondered If He Ever Thought Of Me, And Hated The Pang I Felt When I Told Myself He Didn't.

Conciseness Is Underrated

With Total Strangers, It Had Always Been My Policy To Expect The Worst. Usually They-and Those That You Knew Best, For That Matter-did Not Disappoint.