Playground

I'm sitting on the playground that we so often used to visit. Acting like children ourselves we swang and slid down the slides. We would laugh when the static would shock us or when we would lose our footing. At night when we wanted to escape the confines of the house we would walk to the playground and just enjoy each other's company. I fell deeper in love with you during one of those visits. When we babysat my god daughter, you brought her to this playground and helped her climb the steps. You held her hand as she walked across the bridge and lifted her onto the monkey bars. When she rode her bike down the hill and scraped her knee on the playground's concrete, you picked her up and dusted her off. We often brought the dogs to this playground to allow them to run free. I have pictures of you racing them down the slide. During the snow storms we came to this playground and built snowmen and angels. You taught me to throw a frisbee in the field that this playground sits adjacent to.

This playground holds a lot of memories. Those memories feel like love. Love feels like a lie.