The sun comes out in the second hour of our conversation and she is worried that my forearms will get burned and encourages me to roll down my sleeves. We while away the rest of our afternoon talking about what we’ve each left behind and how to think about relationships like a tree thinks about its leaves and she is right: it doesn’t take long until I am a ripe tomato on my forearms and the back of my neck.

We linger at the cafe all afternoon, because she is right about other things too; relationships change color and fall away and you never know when the season will change so you should savor and cherish each conversation worth getting a sunburn for.