I hope you do

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I never told you how scared I was to lose you. I'm sorry I didn't kiss every single one of your freckles when I had the chance. I'm sorry I never told you how your smile made my heart hurt sometimes. I'm sorry that I didn't walk to your house at two in the morning when I'd lay awake and think about us, and throw rocks at your window so you'd come downstairs and freak out and fuss and then kiss me for walking all the way there by myself in the middle of the night. I'm sorry you never knew that you were that important, and that I'd walk a thousand miles anywhere by myself if it meant you'd understand.

I want you to know that I think you're beautiful first thing in the morning when your hair is messy and your eyes hang low because you're still sleepy. That you were the cutest when you were covered in grass and dirt from doing yardwork you were forced to do and never complained about. I want you to know that I'd do anything for you; that I'd do anything to make sure I can know you again someday. I've loved you even when puberty made your nose bigger. And the first time I saw you cry because your cat died. I loved you because of the way you held my hand carefully like it was something that might fall apart. I loved you because you held me together when I actually was in pieces.

I don't know the difference between reality and my imagination because it all seems too closely related. I don't think I imagined you as perfect as you really proved to be. And I don't mean perfect as in something that's ideal and doesn't leave room for improvement; I mean perfect as in perfect for me. Perfectly flawed and awful sometimes so I could remember that you're just a person. A person I was lucky enough to meet and fall in love with. Someone I couldn't imagine life without, because even though it's possible to live without you, I don't know why I would ever choose to if I didn't have to. And that's what being in love is like. Why would I brush my teeth by myself when it's more fun to freak out and make you leave the bathroom so you can't watch me spit? Why would I ever want to go grocery shopping with my mom again when we could just go together, and argue over what to buy for dinner, and leave with multiple types of shredded cheeses and onioins because we couldn't ever decide on just one type? Why would I ever want to sleep alone again when I learned how to share my bed and my dreams and my soul with the one person who made waking up in the morning fun. I miss how we'd cuddle.

I miss good morning texts. I miss riding around town feeling like there was no place in the world that I belonged more than your front seat. I miss the way your hands feel, and the way my face pressed against your chest when you'd hug me. I miss hearing you say you miss me. And I hope that you do. I hope your subconcious reminds you every once in a while, and you're forced to hang out with me again in your dreams. I hope you remember the way the sunlight hit the curves of my body when it poured through the blinds on days we'd waste laying in bed. I honestly don't see how you could forget.

Actually, I know you didn't forget.

I know you loved me.

I know you still do.

Maybe you've made the choice to let me go for good. Maybe you've decided that you can find something similar to what we've had, and that it'll be enough to make you happy again someday. Maybe you've chosen to belittle our love to help you sleep at night. Whatever it is you've chosen, you don't ever really forget. You just choose to not remember.

But I hope you remember the way I kissed your stomach. I hope you remember the way it felt to tell people I was your girlfriend. I want you to remember the way I could make you giggle. The way I always wanted a sheet to cover my body when we'd lay down because I hate feeling "exposed". Remember kissing my forehead first, then my chin, and then my mouth because it was something we used to do to each other. Remember me everytime you see an ice cube in your drink because I love ice, everytime you see a piece of hair because I always shed; that way you remember me all the time. I hope you remember the way I kiss and I hope it drives you crazy. I hope you remember the way my voice sounded when I called you "babe" or "baby". And I hope that makes you sad now.

I want you to remember me.

I hope you do.