lovable.
that's how he made me feel,
I remember the echo of his voice,
the nervous squeeze of my hand,
the way he cheered for me
at every race,
the way he'd smile
when I'd catch him staring
he knew my favorite flower
and my favorite color
he remembered the little things,
my favorite tea
when I normally woke up
he never forgot a good morning text,
not a single good night
he'd tell me I looked beautiful
even when I was in sweats,
with my hair messily thrown up
and I knew that,
in his eyes,
I was beautiful
and that was enough
