I can't even remember his name
I once had a friend that I only saw for late-night snowy mountain drives.
It felt like magic at 1am when I'd get his text. "Blizzarding rn. Pick you up in 20?"
"YES."
We took the back roads above Boulder, blasting Taylor Swift and singing at the top of our lungs, sticking our tongues of out the open windows to catch falling flakes.
I always felt so happy I could barely contain my joy inside my chest.
And I imagine that moment still exists somewhere and is always replaying, over and over, laughter and singing and snow, always.