Now The Story Wound Up Like This, Just Like A Paperback Novel. Let's Rewrite A Story That Fits.
It's so hard to not think about her today. To not think about....
Rollerskating. Finding Nemo. Poetry readings and coffee in the dim light. Passing touches. Lingering looks. The smell of her skin, her hair, her clothes. Food fights. Movie marathons. Making fun of my acting. The feeling of her body close to mine in the dead of the night. Knowing her eyes were on me as I slept in the morning hours. The day after her birthday. The look on her face as she breathed the word...yes.
What the place would have been like. The flowers. The people who would have been there. The way she would have looked. And the words we would have said. The trip planned for Paris afterward. The place where "you" and "me" first became us. Our place.
It's so hard to not think about us today.
And I'm just not going to fight it anymore.
Rollerskating. Finding Nemo. Poetry readings and coffee in the dim light. Passing touches. Lingering looks. The smell of her skin, her hair, her clothes. Food fights. Movie marathons. Making fun of my acting. The feeling of her body close to mine in the dead of the night. Knowing her eyes were on me as I slept in the morning hours. The day after her birthday. The look on her face as she breathed the word...yes.
What the place would have been like. The flowers. The people who would have been there. The way she would have looked. And the words we would have said. The trip planned for Paris afterward. The place where "you" and "me" first became us. Our place.
It's so hard to not think about us today.
And I'm just not going to fight it anymore.