I remember the first night I climbed into your car.
I moved the cd case off the seat and into its home underneath the glove box.
I brought my umbrella when I walked to your house
(I remember how insistent you were on picking me up).
You opened the door and my heart was beating
so fast...even if I played the unshaken, cute girl.
I thought to myself “What have I got myself into?”
You were so tiny, but none the less my heart leapt at your sight.
I leapt at your sight.
We got in Jetta (Go...Jetta!), and we headed to Timmy Ho’s.
We sat at our what we never knew would be our spot.
I placed my button-covered bag on the chair next to us, and nervously
drank my hot chocolate.
Good eye contact that night. I remember your eye contact.
You drew picatures of pre-grad adventures, and I kept
the napkin where your story was played out.
It got shredded in my bed, but I still have the broken pieces.
I remember how you played with the tassels each time you had a new story to tell.
They were replaced with seashells...how saddening.
I remember how you picked me up one night and we drove.
We just drove, and surprisingly enough we ended up at the ocean.
I loved you for that.
I remember Mexico. Mexico...oh, Love, Mexico.
Don’t you remember? Don’t you?!
“I think I’m falling for you”, you said. You think, or you know?
“I think” may have left us in a better position. I underestimate you, I’m sorry.
You did know. At the time. Thank you, Love. Thank you.
I remember you leaving.
Everytime that you went away, I remember you leaving.
How it felt. How it felt like nothing in the world could hurt that much.
I was wrong.
I couldn’t feel the way I do now. It doesn’t compare to the way I feel now.
I remember coming to see you at five am.
How I stood outside your house for so long just so I could say goodbye, and see you
one last time before you left again. Just so I could breathe for five more minutes until
my oxygen left again.
I remember walking around Langley with you...and how I felt so in love just being
with you.
Don’t you remember?!
I remember the first time you told me you loved me. In the backseat of Jetta.
I was so afraid to say it for fear of the heart breaking sound of not hearing it back.
I said it anyway.
And so did you.
I meant every word. Every time it was said. Every time.
I remember the graveyard.
Not so much a fight, but an experience.
I remember how you stopped telling me you loved me.
I remember how the confrontation made you drink it all away, or at least try to.
I remember picking you up on the sidewalk, and stopping to fix things at the
graveyard.
My house was too full.
I remember you telling me you didn’t love me anymore.
I remember gasping for air when I thought I had lost you.
How I couldn’t breathe without you, how everytime you had EVER left it was hard to
breathe again.
I remember how you wept outside the car.
How you held your head in your hands, and sobbed at the thought of having to live
without me.
I remember your apology and how you hugged me with all your strength.
I could smell you and I still can.
I remember how the next day you still hadn’t changed.
How you still didn’t tell me you loved me, and how I asked why.
I wouldn’t give myself to you until I knew why.
You told me you loved me. To this day I wonder why.
I remember how you smiled.
I remember how you never smiled.
I remember. I remember everything.
I remember how you would grab my face with
both your hands, and kiss me with such passion my feet couldn’t remember how to walk.
I remember the day. I remember when you picked me up from school; not one word
was spoken.
For the first time ever, you brought me home instead of your house.
I wondered why.
I laid on my bed and thought...I had to tell you. I had to get out.
I walked to your house. Just like the first day. Shaking.
I went to the back door. No answer. I went to the front. You answered.
You smiled and laughed. Pleased it seemed, to see me.
You began to walk to the back.
I closed the door and ripped the words straight out of my own throat.
“I don’t wanna go out with you anymore.”
Your eyes. You turned around, and I saw your eyes.
Oh God! I prayed so hard for strength.
I looked at you and said “Jetta...Go Jetta!” Then came your tears.
I remember.
I remember clutching you so I wouldn’t fall down. I couldn’t breathe.
I sobbed so hard each morning, and sobbed so hard each night.
I remember not being able to catch my breath between the weeping.
I remember calling your name.
I remember falling to my knees and praying to God for some peace each night.
I remember.
I remember you.
I remember everything. I remember you.
Don’t you remember?!
Don’t you?!
I remember you.