1. He was my aunt's next door neighbor
    This beautiful, quiet neighborhood with perfectly clipped lawns and shit. His house was made of ruddy bricks and was surrounded by a moat of violets.
  2. He was 70-something, and married.
    An architect, long and thin. He was full of love, especially for his wife. I really tried my best to remember this about him, to keep myself from falling into him. I had no fucking chance. He hugged me goodbye with a huge smile after I first met him, and I was so overcome with emotion I almost cried walking back to my Aunt Samantha's and Uncle Wayne's.
  3. His wife was a very lovely woman
    She was beautiful and artistic. Her heart was kind, and she kissed my hands when she invited us over to dinner. She loved to paint. Everything about her was golden. I loved her, too. But not the same way.
  4. When she died, I went over to give him company
    He told me stories of how he and his wife used to always be the odd ones out amongst their peers, and how the love between them never grew old. How it was puppy love every single day. I never experienced that, but I looked at him and knew exactly what he meant.
  5. I realized I fell in love with him one day when we were looking at all the files in his house.
    He was showing me piles and piles of papers. Then he told me how fascinated he was with Twitter. He googled every article about how to use Twitter, printed it, and put it in a binder for future reference. He never intended to make an account.
  6. I was slammed with a wave of fear that I'd forget the moment I fell in love for the first time, so I made him pose for a picture in the middle of his story.
    138360b4 d2bf 4301 9c77 4884d0d4c65f
  7. We spoke for hours, mostly about me, and then I left.
    I think he knew what happened because he kept laughing at the disoriented, terrified stare I couldn't blink out my eyes. All his words sounded like fingers running softly down an old piano that day. The goodbye hug felt different this time.
  8. I never saw him again after that.
    He moved to Florida to be alone. Eventually, I stopped asking my aunt about him.
  9. If he knew about this app, he'd probably make a binder filled with articles about it, too. And he'd make an account.