She didn't know what to do with herself.
One day we were walking, and one minute, she was beside me, and next, she was on the ground, on her back, three steps behind. She was staring at the sky. It was grey and raining. She smiled, blinking rapidly as the drops stung her eyes. Then, she turned her head, her cheek rubbing against the dirty asphalt, and told me that it was the best she's ever felt in the a long time.
And I believed her.
Still believe her.
It was how I liked to remember her.
Still remember her.