forget.

40.

i'm still stuck in
May, 2016.
my graduation party.
in the bouncy house that
my parents got
for the kids
but we took over.
when i think of you,
i go back
there.
i think of how you
randomly
kissed me,
how i kissed
you back.
how before you left,
i kissed you again.
and you stood there,
stunned and blushing
but a smile
plastered on your face.
for the next 2 months,
i'd see you every week,
sometimes more.
we'd talk
and play football.
but always end
up sitting on
the front steps,
talking about
our biggest dreams.
you wouldn't leave
without
giving me a hug
and sneaking
a kiss,
so my parents wouldn't see.
you'd text me
at 1:27 am
asking if i was
still up.
we'd facetime until
i fell asleep
voluntarily
or until you convinced me.
sometimes we'd
watch the
sun rise
together.
i knew your biggest secrets,
fears,
and darkest thoughts.

school started.
i got busy with swim practice.
you got busy with homework
and projects.
we didn't text as often.
we didn't facetime every night,
once a week if we could.
you got a girlfriend,
and i sat in my room
crying for 2 hours,
wondering where i went wrong.
you stopped texting me back,
stopped calling.
you stopped caring.
but i've never cared so much.
i don't hate you,
i can't.