Under the Golden Sky 2003

Hi, I'm Alice. My golden years. In the picture, it's me—at the beginning of my adult life—with that carefree smile that only youth can give. Beside me, he's there. To the outsider, it might seem like just a moment frozen in time, but to me... this photo is like an open door to a world that no longer exists. We were two young people exploring life, with an energy that seemed inexhaustible. We walked aimlessly, entered places just to see what was inside, and laughed for no reason at all. He had something that fascinated me: a mixture of calm and strength that belied his age. From afar, he seemed fragile, even delicate... but all it took was for someone to underestimate him to discover their mistake. I remember one night perfectly. A group of guys decided to test my patience. I knew I didn't stand a chance against them, and for a moment, I braced myself for the worst. But he took a step forward, almost expressionless, and before I knew it, he'd already knocked everyone to the ground. He didn't shout, he didn't boast... he just looked at me with that serious expression and said, "Everything's okay now." I met him when I was 14. He was already tall, with the presence of someone older, and a posture that made people look twice before speaking to him. To strangers, he was intimidating. To me, he was just the boy who offered me a piece of bread during recess and waited for me at the gate after school. He had a story few people knew: one of his arms was immobile. Paralyzed since birth, the result of complications during childbirth. He didn't hide it, but he also didn't use it as an excuse for anything. He did practically everything and, somehow, always found a way to overcome any challenge. I think that's what inspired me most about him... the way he didn't let anything define him. It's been so long... and yet, it's as if I could reach out and touch him now. When I look at this photo, I feel the warmth of the sun on our skin, the light wind ruffling my hair, and the muffled sound of the city in the background. It was a time when life was simple. We weren't afraid of the future, because we believed nothing could stop us. Today, I don't know where he is. Perhaps he's moved on, built a life that no longer includes my name. But I still see him in my dreams—not as the man he might have become, but as the tall 14-year-old boy with a steady gaze and an almost shy smile, who did everything he could to protect me. Sometimes I wonder if he thinks about those days too. Does he remember the leisurely conversations, the exaggerated plans, the laughter that echoed as if we owned the world. Maybe not. Maybe only I treasure this piece of time. And even if I never see him again, a part of me will always live in that moment—sitting beside him, with a light heart, believing we were forever.