As I watched the roses burn in the fire, sadness ached in my chest. I knew I couldn't get rid of the memories--the bitter memories, the joyful memories. I would never forget the way his eyes shone when he smiled, or they way he would always find the good in people. But now he was gone, and the only thing I had left were those bitter, those joyful memories. And so I thought of when I first met him, those many years ago, when the winter air bit my cheeks and not even my heavy coat could keep me warm...