Walking each other home, at some point(s), is going to feel like having the air knocked right out of us.

Eight years later, I had the honor again of witnessing that same sparkly spirit with my camera- to point my lens at the inexplicable and unfathomable and somehow, find the beautiful.

Her eyes always held a certain truth that, in the days after her death, had me sifting through my external hard drive for any photo I might have accidentally archived, as if that could somehow alleviate the ache.