“You are like my soul, a butterfly of a dream…It sounds as though you were lamenting, a butterfly cooing like a dove. Her eyes were the color of faraway love. Sus labius se cortaron en la luz del coral…”

We read Pablo together everyday. On the beach, in the sun, in the shade. He read it to me in Spanish (Spanish is so romantic!). I would get something like little butterflies fluttering or giant fish flip flopping in my stomach whenever he talked. Off in the distance I could see Mrs. Talbot with her 3 crazy kids. They only really listened to me. Mrs. Talbot said I was the best babysitter they’d ever had. No more babysitting for me! And now there is only Pablo and Emmet. I asked My mom if she’d ever heard of Pablo Neruda. She said no. I told her how romantic it was. She didn’t think I saw, but I saw her roll her eyes. It’s not my fault she’s all dried up inside. Emmet says it’s not our parent’s fault they can’t remember love. That we have to help them to remember what it is like to be young. I decided I agree with Emmet: getting old is kind of like a disease and we have to help the people that are sick. I told my mom one of my favorite lines from Pablo: “Love is so short, forgetting is so long.” She just looked at me. I don’t think she gets it.