I walked swiftly to JJ's Diner on the corner of the street. We first met here when we were fifteen – still young, carefree children – and you offered to buy my milkshake. I let you, of course, as you were the first boy to pay me any mind.I remember how I smiled at you, unable to hold your gaze, my cheeks a rich shade of red. That was long ago – twenty five years to the day to be exact.

Reality returns as my coat snaps in the wind. That's the thing about Kansas, the wind was constant and never relenting. I open the door to JJ's, struggling to squeeze between the glass panes and into the petite restaurant before the door snaps shut by the force of the strong gusts. I sit in our booth, the faded red vinyl full of growing tears. I glance at the menu, but I already know what I will order. The waitress brings my milkshake and I set the cherry on a paper napkin. The cherry is your favorite part, so I always save it for you. I smile gently as I sip the thick ice cream through the straw in my glass.

Time passes slowly. In this little diner, it seems as though all clocks have stopped just for us, to make each moment last longer. I pull a worn picture of you from my wallet. The corners of my mouth turn upward as I look at your close crop haircut, your striking blue eyes, the army fatigues. I miss you. I miss you, and you're never coming back.