blind to change
6.4.11
two years ago, on some cold day, you were wearing shorts and what was supposed to be a check-in, check-out, 5 minute phone call while you were walking home turned into you sitting on your steps, me on my bed, talking for another hour or so.
one year ago, we basked in our glory days. the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed sent shivers down my spine (the good kind). waking up to your sleepy smile on rainy days, our bodies tucked into each other perfectly in a mess of bedsheets and tangled legs. we cooked kisses for breakfast and stuffed our faces with endless bags of popcorn, usually at strange and unhealthy hours of the night. even as we stumbled along, sweaty and smelling of beer, you'd never let me forget what i meant to you. you held me and it was pitch black and you said you were afraid and i whispered that i'd never go, i'd never leave.
one month ago, your crinkly eyes and sleepy smile showed up in my memory and sent shivers down my spine (the bad kind). i tossed and turned with endless questions and what ifs and what abouts and maybes ifs...which brought me right back to those very steps you sat on that first day.
one week ago, i was on the outside looking in. i heard your words and they still sting. and for the first time, i see. we changed together. we changed and changed until we changed apart. i was naive enough to believe that we'd stay stagnant and simple but we are no exception. i am no exception. i no longer know you the way i did.