One of those days...
There are two sets of perfect lip prints below two perfect smooshed noses. I can see every line and pattern. The cracks are a reminder of how he used to always wear chapstick. The lips are slightly open. I stare at them everytime I sit down at my computer. I think about how soft his lips were and exactly how we use to kiss. I can still remember the night he did both of them, standing outside smoking a cigarette, trying to get my attention. It's just another thing I can't bring myself to wash away.
There's not a song or a story that doesn't relate back to him. I find myself with nothing to contribute because everything I did, every hilarious moment, every time I truly cried, every vacation, every drink, every holiday... he was there. Telling a story and trying to find ways to leave him out, prove too difficult... I choose to say nothing.
The summer has brought with it all the memories of last year. Sam has gone home. Sarah and Ashley have both left for the weekends. I'm alone in the apartment. It's all reminiscent. But this time he's not going to crawl into bed with me at 6am. This time I'm not going to wake him up around 2pm to play with me. We're not going to spend the day by the pool drinking and making a bunch of trips to Giant. That summer is gone and I'm forced to make a new one.
I wonder all the time if I texted him at 3am, would he respond? How would he respond? It's that very reason I don't keep his number. I don't have the strength or courage to risk getting stomped on... just to say I love you.
There's not a song or a story that doesn't relate back to him. I find myself with nothing to contribute because everything I did, every hilarious moment, every time I truly cried, every vacation, every drink, every holiday... he was there. Telling a story and trying to find ways to leave him out, prove too difficult... I choose to say nothing.
The summer has brought with it all the memories of last year. Sam has gone home. Sarah and Ashley have both left for the weekends. I'm alone in the apartment. It's all reminiscent. But this time he's not going to crawl into bed with me at 6am. This time I'm not going to wake him up around 2pm to play with me. We're not going to spend the day by the pool drinking and making a bunch of trips to Giant. That summer is gone and I'm forced to make a new one.
I wonder all the time if I texted him at 3am, would he respond? How would he respond? It's that very reason I don't keep his number. I don't have the strength or courage to risk getting stomped on... just to say I love you.