Walter Jonas was a true New Yorker through and through, having spent the past 76 years of his life in the city. Walter had lived through many sad events, the passing of his brother, his house and every belonging going up in smoke during a particularly nasty fire, and loosing his right leg due to heavy burns he attained in the accident. Yet he had never felt sorrow as horrible as the one he felt when his wife and best friend for the past 40 years, Annie, finally lost the fight against cancer. He remembered this day particularly well. It was December 2nd, late evening, when he watched her eyes close for the last time, clutching her hand desperately and willing her to stay with him forever. One day later he was walking quickly towards the tiny flower shop Annie had adored, wanting to make sure they were able to attain her favorite flower, Sunflower, for the funeral, whether it was appropriate for the setting be damned. Thinking back at it now, he was surprised he had managed to think clearly. It was the lowest Walter Jonas had ever felt in his life. Despair threatened to overtake the rest of his life as he desperately tried to remember exactly the way Annie's skin felt after she had taken a lavender bath. But something changed that day.

The flower shop was very tiny, simply three rows of shelves filled with flowers of every color and shape. The young receptionist talked with him in a carefully polite manner, as she could see the emptiness behind his weary eyes and wrinkled face. That was the moment they walked in. Walter remembered turning to the entrance and seeing two men roughly the same size and age walk in, one with a head of dark, untamed curls, a mustard yellow scarf draped around his neck-the other with a lighter shade of brown hair, slightly taller with particularly blue eyes. He could instantly see that they were closer than friends; the blue-eyed man kept giggling and blushing while the other couldn't keep his eyes of him for a second. Both of their faces were adorned with goofy smiles and their hands were clasped tightly between them. He watched as they walked over to the white roses, leaning against each other, hands brushing arms. Walter ignored the salesgirl's attempt at catching his attention back, openly staring at the couple. After 80 years of living, seeing couples in all shapes and forms, he could understand that they had just gotten together, maybe just that same week. The blue-eyed one kept talking, but the other man did not say anything at all, just staring at him with that same lovey-dovey look in his eyes, sometimes nodding. At one point the tall one pulled a single white rose out of the bouquet and held it out to the other who blushed and smelled it before running a finger down his cheek and leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. They eventually ended up buying two roses, one for each, and exited the shop as they had come in: happy and in love, so insanely in love. Walter left right after them, excusing himself lamely before quickly rushing out the door. Annie was dead. She was gone. For him, love was over. But for the two men, love had just begun. Suddenly Walter could not help but laugh out loud, lightly dabbing his teary eyes and smiling. It was their turn now, and he could not be happier.

Walter Jonas was to live for six more years. One of his last meetings with daylight was a lazy Saturday afternoon in late July. He had finally been allowed to visit Central Park one last time, which had been where he had first met Annie. He knew his time was running out, and he wanted to say a last goodbye. A male nurse named Anthony was pushing him in a wheelchair, couples and old people and dogs dodging them respectively. He saw them as they rounded a corner; would remember them no matter what his Alzheimer meant. They were lounging under a tree, older now, though their appearances had not changed much in the past six years. The blue eyed boy was resting on the curly-haired's chest between his legs where he was propped up against a tree. Blue-eyed was reading a bright green book with golden cover art and the curly haired was reading it with him, over his shoulder. Sometimes Curly would use his hands to sign a pattern of some sort, and the blue eyed boy would answer with a fond smile and some whispered words that Walter couldn't hear from the distance. They looked just as in love as they had that day in December, their smiles just as bright. A black Labrador was sleeping in the grass next to them, lying on his back with his tongue sticking out. Walter asked Anthony to pause for a moment, to allow him to take them in one last time. He watched as a girl, eight year old perhaps, with brown hair in a bright red bow plopped down next to them, saying something that caused them both to laugh. Watched them just sit there with each other, the one against the tree occasionally kissing the chestnut hair in front of him, holding him close against his chest by clutching his waist.

In some silly way, Walter supposed that was the world's way of biding him goodbye. To let him know that it was okay, he could go now. Walter Jonas died two days later in his old house in Brooklyn, pictures of his wife on the walls and the smell of white roses heavy in the air. He was found three hours later, a smile permanently etched on his face.

Well, I saw you there just the other day
You smiled at me in a secret way
So I let you in and you captured me
I'm your prisoner, it's what I wanna be

When it feels like it's love
All the stars lift you up
Well, to place you high above
On top of the world
I'm just glad that I found you

Like a thief you came to steal my heart
I'll surrender now, because you broke my guard
Such a pretty face, it warms my soul
And your sweet blue eyes, they shine like gold

When it feels like it's love
All the stars lift you up
Well, to place you high above
On top of the world

I'm just glad that I found you

- Found you by Ross Copperman


Well folks, that is all. I feel strangely sad now, but I have told the story I wanted to. Thank you so much for going through this with me, and for all the comments and love. You are the best, and I love you! Thank you again3