The lingering.
I try very hard to let myself not think about you. Sometimes I think about wearing your shirt just so I can remember the time you lent it to me and the irony of what it said. I never told you, but that week we black out from existance to live in the realm of our fantasies, you said you didn’t remember anything, and I told you, ” Neither do I”, well I lied. I remember it in patches, but I remember, it was probably the best moment of my year.
Besides your shirt, all I have left are the sound waves of your imagination and the too many pictures that don’t seem enough. It’s a sad reality that I won’t be allowed these moments again, for your heart belongs to someone else and it’s not my place to take it back.
I wish I could have told you how I truly felt and never held bad. I wish I could have told you how much I cared and how much I felt for you. Though, I know that if I did that, it would have hurt a lot worse.
You were….are my first real love.
