Blue melancholy falls like lost raindrops on old memories.

She left. Or I left. Either way, it hurt.

I loved her. She lived with her heart exposed, unafraid and unburied, for all to see her.

I wanted her. She expressed herself in light and color and an open door.

I thought I needed her. I thought…

But, in the end, she was only a passing teacher showing me the cracks in my wall on a rainy day filled with laughter and bluish dreams.