the first person I loved

Dark eyes reflect the colorful leaves strewn about the yard. Her voice is authoritative, her mouth turned up in a smile. She instructs me to pick up the driest leaves, and leave the wet ones where they are. We run around, the crisp air turning our cheeks rosy but keeping our hearts warm. Tiny hands bring armfuls of leaves to the ground in front of the swing set until the pile is soft and spongy.

She wants to go first, but offers me the first jump, and helps push me in the swing until I am soaring, almost touching the leaves that remain on the tree above us. My nose is running but I don’t even notice. My fearless heart allows my hands to unclench from the rough, fraying string that holds the swing. I swing backwards for the last time, and as I rise above the sea of orange and red below me, I use my momentum to push off of from the swing, falling for a moment before crashing down among the leaves.

The ground is harder than I expect, and when I land, leaves flying up around my face, the breath is briefly knocked out of my lungs.

I regain it though, when I see her running towards me, her eyes bright and her arms open wide. Without warning, she jumps and I barely move my arm in time for her fall down beside me among the damp leaves.

We are both giggling, and she lies back into the soft pile, pulling my hand so that I lie with her. I feel so content then, and inside my chest, my heart swells with love for this brave girl who has told me that we are best friends.

She blows a leaf off her face and moves her arms and legs back and forth, a leaf angel forming underneath her small body. I imitate her, and look up to the bright blue sky above us, our combined joy radiating up to the highest leaf on the tree.