Four days ago you weren’t ex. Four months ago I was way out of your league. I guess you forgot that detail. Now that I come to think of it, that’s not the only detail you forgot. Remember when I was the unattainable older girl? The singer. The actress.
Remember when we happened to dance that night? When you were my friends’ date and not mine. Remember the chemistry? The tentative texts? The playing it cool? The kiss….the kiss. The awkward and wonderful kiss. Only the second pair of lips I had ever kissed in eighteen years of life. The smell of you and the feel of you. So unfamiliar, yet so comforting. Then you. me. became you and me.
I don’t know what led to you breaking up with me over a text monday morning out of the clear blue. Did it have something to do with the fact that after four months you still couldn’t regale your friend with tales of what we “did” together? That I wanted to save my body for someone who committed fully to me? That I wanted to be known for my soul and not just my bra size? All I know is, that seems to make a lot more sense than the load of crap you fed me about “caring about me.” You hurt me so deeply and I miss you so much. But I’ll never let you know.
So try to remember, if it’s not to inconvenient for your busy schedule. Meanwhile, I will forget.