Tillie Cole

The half-empty jar of a thousand boy-kisses.

“And my heart almost burst.”

“Our footprints in the sand.”

In both cases, a bond that no one could break.

Why does it take a life ending to learn how to cherish each day? Why must we wait until we run out of time to start to accomplish all that we dreamed, when once we had all the time in the world? Why don’t we look at the person we love the most like it’s the last time we will ever see them? Because if we did, life would be so vibrant. Life would be so truly and completely lived.”

“I’ll give you a thousand kisses, Poppymin. All of them. No one will kiss you ever, but me.”

My eyes widened but my heart didn’t slow down. “That would be forever, Rune. To never be kissed by anyone else means we’ll be together forever, and ever and ever!”

“Poppymin,” he said, his voice deeper—hard and strong. “Poppymin! It means my Poppy. For infinity, forever and always. You’re MY Poppy!”

“Did … when I … kissed you … did … did your heart almost burst? Was it extra special? You said only extra-special kisses make it into the jar.”

“It did, Rune. It was as special as special can be.”

“Can I … can I kiss you again?”