i sat and thought, i thought long and hard. it’s not the memories i miss the most. it’s the future.
we’ll never get to go to my senior prom together like we always talked about. we won’t take my family’s old corvette you wanted to drive so bad. you’ll never see me drive my new car either. we’ll never go off to separate colleges and have to text each other all the time and cry about how we miss each other, and you’ll have to comfort me all the time assuring me we’ll be okay. we definitely won’t do that. we won’t have our little fights through that that will break us up only to make us stronger in the end. we’ll never go to each other’s graduations and cry about how proud we are of one another. we won’t have that super romantic moment of the proposal at a baseball game like i’d always imagined. i won’t see my face in the big jumboscreen. i won’t cry. we won’t get to walk down the aisle. i won’t be able to read my speech about how you’ve been with me through my whole life. how we were bestfriends, and you were my crutch throughout my whole hard time growing up. i won’t have to mention the bad breakups, the constant tears and hurt i felt. then again who mentions that in a speech? i won’t be able to get super drunk at our wedding like we laughed about. i won’t be able to get that ring i saw three years ago. we won’t get to move into a crappy apartment. we won’t have kids, watch them grow up. we won’t get to prove that we’re better than our parents. we won’t grow old together. we won’t sit on the swing of a ranch house, deep in the desert, we won’t have that porch swing. we won’t be able to dance to our songs when we’re eighty three. we won’t die together. because you once told me you never wanted to live a day without me in your life. we’ll never get to say i love you. i love you. don’t give up yet.