I remember you.
I walked to the gray stone, my daughters hand entwined with my own. I kneeled down and held her tight as I pinned a bouquet of white roses to it. I remember you. When you first moved to Tulsa, I was skeptic at first, though we had so much in common. I remember our first date. When we snuck into the Dingo, we weren't even paying attention to the movie. It felt like we were the only ones there. I remember our first kiss. Our first time. You were upset because this broad started flirting with me. You thought you were just like her. You weren't just another broad to me. You were mine. And I wanted you to know that. I remember when you told me you were pregnant. I know I looked mad, but I was just worried. I wasn't ready to be a father yet. I didn't want to end up like my old man. I didn't want to be a bad father. I remember those nine months. You drove me absolutely crazy! But I knew that it would be worth it. Everything was worth it. I remember when it was finally time. I hated seeing you in so much pain, but when I held our baby girl in my arms, she became my world. We had named her(Y/D/N) (Y/M/N) Winston. She grew up to be such an beautiful girl, just like you. I remember the day I got that phone call. That damned phone call that changed my life forever. I was feeding (Y/D/N), when the kitchen phone rang. It was the police. You had gotten in a horrible car accident with an intoxicated driver. You were gone. I remember being so mad at you for leaving me with our baby girl. I was scared. I was so scared. I didn't think that I could take care of our daughter by myself. I tried to find someone new, but they could never replace you. Nobody could replace you. "I remember you Y/D/N." I whispered. I took one last look at the gravestoneI took (Y/D/N)'S hand, kissing it, walking back to the car.
I remember you.
