I remember that first meeting,
how he plopped down in the chair
like he belonged there.
I remember his footsteps as he
came down the hall and around the corner.
I remember not knowing his name
for two whole months.
I remember just sharing stories,
not sure if we’d see each other ever again.
I remember when I fixed his
hoodie’s drawstring.
I remember skipping class just to
keep talking.
I remember the head over heels,
butterflies in my stomach feeling
whenever he was close.
I remember the late nights.
I remember the sound of an idly
picked guitar.
I remember the short winding
drive by the river.
I remember that first vacation.
I remember trying to fit two
people onto a twin sized bed,
and I remember it not working.
I remember staying up all night
on the couch talking about
everything and nothing.
I remember the way his touch made
me feel alive.
I remember the agitated texts
when I didn’t respond fast enough.
I remember slowly losing my
identity.
I remember how the suspicious
thoughts started.
I remember thinking, maybe this
isn’t right.
I remember how he walked out
instead of staying and talking things out.
I remember both drunken
Halloweens.
I remember forgiving him.
I remember I hated being forced
to fight, to yell.
I remember having no time for
myself.
I remember many happy hours with
his family.
I remember the laughter and
beaming faces of children.
I remember feeling unhappy and
anxious all the time, for no reason.
I remember the advice “Be with
the person that makes you better.”
I remember the hurt on his face
when I said I didn’t want to be with him.
I remember thinking he was so
‘mature’.
I remember how wrong I was.
I remember every insult he hurled
or wrote.
I remember I never hurled any
back.
I remember being so hurt I wanted
to crawl inside myself and hide from the world.
I’m remembering who I come from,
and that we are survivors.
I’m remembering how much I like
my freedom.
I’m remembering how to be truly
happy again.
I’m remembering what it’s like to
just be me.
No comments:
Post a Comment