as of now

i don't know if anybody really understands how precious it is. it's like that feeling you get when the sun hits your back and warms you right through to your chest, like when you shut your eyes for too long and everything is tinted blue. it's as fragile as a necklace made of daisies, or a tiny blue robin's egg. it smells like wet grass in the morning and it tastes like freshly baked bread. but nobody knows how precious it is, not really.
not until it's gone.