i hope you think of me every time it rains
because if you ever remembered anything
about me it’s that i adore rain and even if
the drops running down     the     window
don’t match the tears running down your
face, i will forgive you.          i forgive you.
i forgive you for f o r g e t t i n g       m    e
and i forgive   you for telling me that you
used the word l o v e      too      l o o s e l y
because      maybe i’m good at pretending
but that hurt and iforgiveyou  for making
m e     think that     y o u would care about
me for the                            rest of our lives.

maybe i'm in a bookstore
browsing some      young
adult novels and  i notice
someone's   p r e s e n c e
joining me in the isle but
i don't bother to look u p.
i'm reading  the back of a
book with a pretty cover.
s l o w l y,    the presence
comescloseruntil i hear a
voice say,              "try it."
and  i look up to find the
voice belongs to a     boy
with big brown eyes and
a head of tou  sl  ed dark
hair    (my own personal
definition    of    gorgeous)
i ask,       "should i?" and
he g i v e s an approving
nod      and says, "it's my
  favoritebookontheplanet."
and       i    say, "it's      a  
b    i     g              planet."
and he says, "it's a good
book." and i believe him.

soon, i'm walking round
withhim              andhe's
showing me some of his
other     favorite   books.
and i'm     l i s t e n  i n g
and he'saskingme about
my favorite    books and
he's l   i    s   t   e    n  ing.
it's     one     of those few
beautiful     times where
the world mightnoteven
exist         outside of this
moment                     and
you'renotsureyouwould
entirely    care    if it did.
and         maybe it's love.

i keep forgetting that i am no longer
his definition of "lovely," that he no
longer finds my face his favorite
thing to memorize. my freckles
are no longer the stars in his
night sky. my lone dimple
is no longer the crater
in which he swims.

my
brown eyes
are no longer the
way he likes his coffee.