I hadn’t seen her in five years. 
Well I’d seen her taking the bus a couple of times, hid behind the seat when she turned around.
But what I mean is that I hadn’t talked to her in five years.
And honestly, it should have stayed that way.
Her hair was down and her dress was blue.  Her eyes matched the dress, but I already knew that, because I remembered her eyes.
The smile was still the same.  I little more tired, more sincere, but still there.
She turned around. 
She said hi.
I said hi back.
And just like that, five years went into flames.
I walked her home.

I wish that she'd lived in another town.  That way, we could just keep on walking.

I asked questions that didn’t really have answers, just to keep the conversation going.
She laughed.
She smiled.
I smiled.
We smiled.
Ok this is getting really cheesy, but the fact is that we did hold a smiling marathon, and there’s nothing I can do about that.  In fact, there is nothing I would do about that, even if I could.
But she’s in love.
And she doesn’t believe in God.
So I went home. 
And that was it.
I hadn’t seen her in five years.
But, honestly, I wish I hadn’t.