cold coffee hates sledding
It's always this season that makes me wish I wasn't so greatly lacking in my writing abilities. It's not that every season doesn't remind me of you, it's just that there's something about the leap from tank tops to jackets that make walks around riverwalk all that more exciting. Makes the conversation more stimulating, the coffee colder. It wasn't until later that you wanted to die. The fall left you wanting intimacy to keep you warm, the winter left you with a white lie & a cigarette. "Awkward silence" was often a phrase we used, for it occurred more times than either of us were comfortable with in those last two months we spent together. I kept my distance, you broke your promises, and together we ate pizza and drank cherry coke on Christmas Eve, valuing what little was left of our time together, struggling to hold on to something that had been gone for quite some time. Christmas came, and we exchanged gifts and a look of accusations. Christmas passed, and we forgot we had ever cared about what had once been. To prevent the return of old feelings, no longer was your number in my cell phone, not to say that I don't still have it memorized to this day. No longer is mine in your's, but you will not admit to the seven digits in the back of your head. At the end of our story, I moved on, and you just moved.