Ink On A Notepad

my

[Cece]

i don't know if you'd remember, but there was a time when i saw the real you. outside on the corner of your street, stood in your bright blue pajama's, coffee in hand with a suitcase at your feet. 

i don't know if you'd remember the boy that made his way up to you at the bus stop, the boy that sat on the end of the bench, because he was too afraid to ask you what you were doing. i don't know if you remember how much he blushed when you said you knew him, and then cuddled up to him as if you knew him forever and spilled out all your problems of why you were sat at a bus stop at half two in the morning. 

i don't know if you remember how he held you and let you cry until the bus came, and when the driver asked what you two were doing, he said that you were camping, and you did nothing and let the driver move on. i don't know if you remember how he bundled you up in his own blanket he'd brought and you stayed there until your parents ran outside into the cold, to find two kids, a boy and a girl, huddled next to the bushes.

i remember.

Grayson.