I've always talked about your eyes and how I swam in them. I drowned in them once but yeah, I managed. I used to talk about the way I traced your spine and how it resembled a constellation I couldn't seem to perceive. Nobody listened but I didn't mind...
I've always loved daydreams because it kind of detaches myself from the real world. But it wasn't. It was something I longed for.
Remember when you told me that you loved how the smoke from your cup of coffee fogged up your glasses?
Remember when you told me that you loved how the branches from the trees outside your window created silhouettes on your walls every time the day draws to a close?
Remember when we'd take strolls at the park early in the morning and let the morning dew fall over us?
Remember when I used to paint you and laugh at how I could never get some parts of you right?
Remember when I wrote poems about you?
Remember when you used to call me at 6 in the morning and ask what I wanted to go through the day?
I pace back and forth, trying to eliminate all these things in my head. Remember when you said you never wanted to remember all these again? "It doesn't even matter anymore." There you go again.
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