You had me. At three in the morning. When we sat in the car for hours so we could listen to the rain as it hit the windshield. When the sun was beating on my back, begging for attention. Whenever you'd put your hands in your front pockets and rock back on your heels. When I realized that every step you took caused an earthquake. When you kissed me like your life depended on it. When you said that it did. When you told me you loved me for the first time in a grocery store parking lot. When you'd call me at 2:37 in the morning to tell me that every tree you see reminds you of me. When every cigarette your fingers touched turned to dust. When you told me you missed me too. You had me.