Hues of purple green and red dance around the ceiling, moving in and out of kaleidoscope figures. Four wandering minds but no one is speaking. Quiet hums of the song Drunk and with Dreams plays in the background. The moment is like a dream. The room is a grey cloud of smoke. A velvet couch softly kissing my skin. I feel as if I am fading into the milk plaster walls.

When it quiets down, the moment takes on the loudest voice. Four hearts beating to the same song. A cool breeze slips through the window and I’m reminded that it’s February. The aroma of burnt popcorn doesn’t bother me anymore.

“When I hear a song, I see colors,” Connor says quietly.

“I see images and pictures. Moments of my life.”

The candle burning on the table next to us flickers. It’s strange how each one of us had seen such different things in our short lives but we are all so present in one piece of time together. Our bodies, physically there next to each other; but mentally wondering miles away. We all accept each other for what we are, rather than what we are not.

This little moment makes my thoughts grow into huge realizations.

The song, Nobody Cares if You Don’t Go to the Party is making more sense than it ever has. If you haven’t heard the song, the title is self explanatory.

Moments like these kind of freak me out. In twenty years the only thing I will have to remember this are photographs and pieces of writing. I won’t remember what I was thinking about or what comment it was that made me laugh until my stomach hurt. I guess that’s what makes these times matter.

The little moments are the ones you appreciate the most.