Forever emblazoned in my mind is the image of that small moment in time when, from underneath a tree that we called ours, the one we had watch come into full bloom during our days shared, you looked up at me peering down from the hotel window. With a smile on you face and a memorable deep tone to your voice, you called out my name, blowing me a kiss as you bid me goodbye. With a quivering, forced smile and tears streaming down my cheeks, I lifted my small, trembling hand, waving back to you, watching your every step as you walked slowly out of sight. At that moment, I slowly turned around, glancing about the tiny room where we had lived, laughed and loved for one glorious week in that foreign land far from home. Through stinging, salty tears, I could finally see clearly, and see the room for what is was—plain, dull and small. But for the days when we shared the space, that very same commonplace room had been transformed into one more beautiful than any in a castle or palace of grand design. But without your presence, the space that had once been beautiful and strewn with red rose petals reverted back to its mundane appearance.