the hardest to forget
are the little things that
made loving you worthwhile,
that well put pun you once made,
the way you hugged me from behind
infront of a never ending pond,
the first time i felt comfortable enough to
take a picture on your phone,
your voice first thing in the morning,
your love as the last thought on my mind at night,
my fingers jamming to the beat of your music on top of your arm,
the sound of your breath on a cold night,
my eyes exploring your face, every time
the way the nickname you gave me echos in my ears,
the way you never could love me gently,

i think of you
and the way you
stopped me before we entered
any place, just to hold me up and kiss me

you broke me
until your insecurity screamed, "Ah, see, imperfections!",
because only then you could love me,
even loved me more than
the way you hung on your trauma,
even when i had all the right remedies for your pain

it seems that i gave you happiness,
all of it,
all of the happiness in the world,

even the little bit that belonged to me..

living in the moment
lasts for the moment,

loving myself
requires living every single moment

the stages of grieve
feel like they
are taking the entirety of my life

loving you
was breathing hard
as I force in
thick air to inhale.