I have these days sometimes. Days when everyone looks beautiful to me. In all their imperfections, they just look beautiful. Do you know what I mean? The clothes they chose that day, their hairstyles, the look on their faces. Their skin, their eyes, their expressions. I choose a few to look at. I wonder what they’ll look like in 10 years. Much different? 10 years is not a long time anymore. Last night we lit a yahrtzeit candle for Noah. Six years since it happened. We light it together. Last night we didn’t have matches. We used one of those Bic long lighter thingies. I realized at that moment I prefer the sound of the match strike. I need that sound. How Noah has changed me. First by being here. Then by not being here. Maybe I substitute intense beauty for intense pain. But it seems to work. Then illusion is real and fake simultaneously.