josh and morgan
At random moments I flash back to years ago. At 14, when I met him and I was amazed. At 16, when he wanted to hang out everyday. At 17, when we both were stubborn and gave up way too easily. Then I think about the huge gaps where we didn't see eachother, months or even years went by. I think about how miserable and alone I felt. I think about the few times we ran into eachother and it was like a time-machine had taken us back, always with this energy that was unavoidable and overwhelming.
I remember the day he pulled into my dad's driveway, he got out of his van and my heart was in my throat. My sister looked at me and said "Since when is Josh a stud?". He liked me, just as he always had, but followed the rules and was a good friend to me when I needed him. He helped me through the most difficult time of my life, and I loved him for it. Thinking about those months leaves me speechless. I was empty, alone, and had forgotten what it was like to be happy. My life was a pathetic cycle of sleeping, smoking and watching tv. He brought me back.
I jump back to being 17, when we would fall asleep together on the couch and secretly hold hands. We wrote notes back and forth about our feelings while sitting beside eachother, we were too nervous to talk about it aloud. One day I went home early from school because I was sick. I called to tell him I couldn't hang out and he said he would risk catching my cold. A bit later he was at my door with a bag of goodies, soup and crackers, ginger ale, and movies for us to watch. It was the sweetest day ever, except for all of the other days he did such things, like my birthday party. I don't mind anymore that things got messed up.
He told me he loved me the first time he kissed me...but I didn't hear him. He worried that I didn't feel the same and just ignored it. I've always known that he did, and that the feeling was mutual. It took months for him to work up the courage to try again. I wish I would have heard him the first time.
At 14, I looked at him and wondered what kind of girl would be lucky enough to have him.
I can't believe that the girl who is lucky enough is me.
I remember the day he pulled into my dad's driveway, he got out of his van and my heart was in my throat. My sister looked at me and said "Since when is Josh a stud?". He liked me, just as he always had, but followed the rules and was a good friend to me when I needed him. He helped me through the most difficult time of my life, and I loved him for it. Thinking about those months leaves me speechless. I was empty, alone, and had forgotten what it was like to be happy. My life was a pathetic cycle of sleeping, smoking and watching tv. He brought me back.
I jump back to being 17, when we would fall asleep together on the couch and secretly hold hands. We wrote notes back and forth about our feelings while sitting beside eachother, we were too nervous to talk about it aloud. One day I went home early from school because I was sick. I called to tell him I couldn't hang out and he said he would risk catching my cold. A bit later he was at my door with a bag of goodies, soup and crackers, ginger ale, and movies for us to watch. It was the sweetest day ever, except for all of the other days he did such things, like my birthday party. I don't mind anymore that things got messed up.
He told me he loved me the first time he kissed me...but I didn't hear him. He worried that I didn't feel the same and just ignored it. I've always known that he did, and that the feeling was mutual. It took months for him to work up the courage to try again. I wish I would have heard him the first time.
At 14, I looked at him and wondered what kind of girl would be lucky enough to have him.
I can't believe that the girl who is lucky enough is me.
