The first day I met him in the park, he was folding a piece of paper into odd shapes. At first I didn't understand, but then he looked at me with eyes the same color as the sky and said, "Origami."

It had been years since then, but we had managed to spend all of that time together. It was in the spring, while we lay intertwined atop a blanket on the grass where I first saw him, that he told me he was sick.

My mind reeled, trying to understand, but all I could do was cry. I cried in his arms as he stroked my hair and told me it would be okay, that he had lived a happy life with me, and even if it wasn't a full one, he was ready.

This park was special. This park had a fountain. People said if you threw coins in it, that any wish you wanted would be granted. I knew what my wish was going to be even before I searched my pockets for change.

The only thing I found was a flat paper crane, its edged full and fading in the sunlight. With my hand hovering over the water, I let go, watching the fragile paper float on the wind until it dropped.

The water seemed to swallow this small, paper-made object into its depths, crushing any hope I had left. This was the only sign I was getting and it was enough.

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