I remember, quite a while back, there was a little girl who lived in the house across the street. She would wear big frilly dresses, have her blonde hair up in bouncy little pigtails, and dainty little shoes. Her favourite colour was pink. If she got something that was a different colour, she’d paint it pink. Whenever the weather was nice, she would sit outside and have a tea party with her stuffed animals. They’d each have a cup of tea and a plate for finger food. Mostly, it was just cookies, sometimes she’d have tea cakes, with pink frosting, of course. This went on for years as she grew up. She started coming out less and less. I’d see her sitting in the window, studying, doing homework, practicing piano. I watched as she grew up and eventually she wouldn’t come out at all anymore. She got a boyfriend one year. He was a tall, handsome boy. Brown hair, blue eyes. He made her so happy. Every night when he brought her home, he’d give her a kiss, a hug, tuck her hair behind her ear and leave with a promise to see her again soon. One day, he stopped visiting. I of course, didn’t know why, but I could see her still, through the big window in the front. She’d stare blankly out the window or she’d cry. She was quiet after that. She stopped smiling for a long while. The homework she would hand in were tear stained, they were not her best work and her parents were not happy with that. Then, she left. How long? I’m not too sure. A while. She left for a while, and came back with a smile. She wasn’t better. I could tell. She only had a smile because she knew that’s what people needed from her. So for a while, she lived with that smile that hid her broken self, but I could still see. Around mid-march, someone new visited. Another boy. He had black hair, green eyes, and glasses. He was clumsy, he’d drop things as he brought them to the door, he’d trip over his own feet, and he’d have his shirt half tucked. But she never smiled brighter. He’d give her gentle hugs. He treated her like a delicate butterfly. But she wasn’t delicate like that. She was like a hard diamond. But she didn't mind. She loved his hugs. He’d kiss her on the forehead. She beamed every time. Sometimes, they’d sit in the window and I’d see him brushing her hair. Her hair would be the silkiest when he brushed it. She loved it. She loved him. And this lasted. Longer than the one before. They were happy together. She never thought she’d ever have anything so perfect. They got married in the end, in the yard where she used to have tea parties. It was a beautiful wedding. There were pink flowers, there was pink confetti, but the wedding cake was blue. She was stunning that day. She had a big, frilly pink dress. Her hair was twisted into a beautiful chignon, she had an elegant veil. Everything was perfect. As she made her way down the aisle, the clumsy boy smiled wide. And as they left the house, he tripped, but caught himself. She couldn’t help but smile wide at that. And that was the last time I saw them. I like to think that they moved into a tiny pink cabin. Where they have pink tea parties. Maybe with blue cake, because that’s his favourite colour. Maybe they have kids now. But what would I know? I’m a tree.