"It’s hard to remember the time before I loved you. It exists all in some kind of vague, dull haze — a primordial soup of half-feelings and tired complacency. I know that it was good at the time, that I felt the peaks and valleys of happiness just as acutely as I do now, but I can’t remember it. It’s as though life was in black-and-white then, that every edge was dulled and noise muffled, and I didn’t know that color was an option. It was perfectly acceptable to go through life in this cloudy facsimile of what life could actually be, unaware that so much could change with the addition of a certain kind of love. How could I have known that the grass could be this Technicolor green, that morning coffee could be so deep and rich and sweet, that clouds could stand out so perfectly puffy-white against a sky too blue to look at? I wish I didn’t know this world, that you hadn’t shown it to me, because I can’t ever go back to the muted one I lived in before."