When I opened the Christmas gifts you got for me and vice versa.

On the way out to eat, you looked over your right shoulder just to observe traffic and all I could think about was how clear your eyes were from my view.

Every single time we say goodbye on the phone.

When we were sitting in Qdoba and you grabbed my hands, stared at me, smiled, and chuckled, insisting I was cute.

We were looking at the Waukesha skyline, and as we turned to get back to your car and escape the December cold, you tripped over the last standing Christmas tree that overlooked the city and I laughed hysterically.

When we raced across the Target parking lot and you beat me by a landslide, but you almost knocked a family over as you hardly stopped yourself from running into them.

The first time we ever skyped, my heart stopped as you looked at your whiteboard, doing homework. I still stop myself from saying it, every time you do.

When I was sitting in the passenger seat of your car in the Target parking lot, and you leaned over and kissed me. No warning. Just the kiss. You pulled back and smiled, forehead to forehead. Neither of us said one word.

When you spoke to me in nothing but Dance Gavin Dance lyrics for practically a whole day.

When you told me that this wasn't the relationship you thought it would be. I bit my tongue and held back tears.
I let you vent.
I let you disconnect.

Eyes closed as I lay,
I wish you were here to stay
yet fear envelopes my aching chest
and I worry that I'll never
rest beside you.
So I lie awake and count the breaths I take,
each one feeling wasted as
the only piece of you that lingers
is your
absence.

One.
When my mom found us asleep in my bed at 4am and screamed at you to 'Get the **** OUT of her house,' you texted me the very next morning and asked to see me as though it never even happened.

Two.
When my family went out of town without me for Thanksgiving, we stayed the whole day at your place and watched foreign movies and ate pasta.

Three.
On our first date, we sat in your car until 3am just... talking.

Four.
When my sister really wanted that new Pokemon game and my local Walmart sold out, you voluntarily drove almost 5 towns over just so she could get it because you knew I couldn't for her.

Five.
The first time we had ***, I cried. I still don't know why. You held me the whole time.

Six.
You woke me up with tickets to one of my favorite musicians of all time, for a tour I didn't even know about.

Seven.
When my dogs died, you stayed up with my the whole night as I cried. Both times.

Eight.
The first time you kissed me was at a gas pump at 10pm after I changed out of my blouse and into my hoodie.

Nine.
You took me to Buffalo Wild Wings even though you're a vegetarian. You even put up with my singing each 2008 Billboard Top 100 song as it played. I could tell you were embarrassed for me, but you laughed and kissed me anyway.

Ten.
When I told you I hadn't been to the art museum, you took me. When I told you I'd never been to Chipotle, you took me. When I told you I hadn't felt safe in years, you made me feel the safest I ever have.

Eleven.
After you kissed me the first time, you admitted the thing that "made" you kiss me was my purple-stained lips after I ate Superman ice cream while belting out songs terribly and sitting in the passenger seat of your car.

Twelve.
When I told you that you were a terrible tipper and I was a waitress, you immediately stopped tipping terribly.

Thirteen.
You left me a voicemail telling me you appreciated me, that you felt lucky to have me, and you claimed you didn't deserve me. While I disagree, I felt it. That was the first time I heard you say "I love you" before you had actually said the words "I love you."

We walked in together and from that moment on,
I watched the way your eyes traced each line in each portrait.
Arms stiffened in the pockets of your tight, but not too tight jeans,
I wondered what it would be like to kiss you.
In an art museum I'd never been to,
you were the most beautiful piece in the room.
I couldn't look away.
While most people take pictures of the paintings they love,
the sculptures that mesmerize them,
I turned my focus to those carolina blue eyes as they focused on the art.
I traced your jawline in my mind,
and I tried to count each hair in your ****** scruff.
I wondered who was responsible for such an incredible work,
who could have created such beauty,
and how I came so lucky to witness it.
At least a thousand other people were in the museum
yet I felt as though it was only you.
You seemingly perfect human being,
your elegantly disheveled hair,
your tired yet lively eyes.
I want to create something with you.
I want to make art so beautiful it radiates,
I want to love you so purely it never ends.
You stopped to get gas on the way back.
I stepped out of the car to take a mental picture of the way those iridescent lights hit your face,
and as I approached,
you kissed me.
This moment was a masterpiece,
the world should have counted my heartbeats.
We broke the kiss and headed home.
I held your hand the whole way.
I have loved art my entire life,
but have never come across
beauty as pure as
you.

Give me a reason to hate you.
Everyone's been pointing out flaws,
yet I'm banking on the maybe that you can prove them wrong.
I can't live in this back and forth cycle of
being all that you want,
and nothing at all.
I sit here listening to you sing and it fills up my empty,
but I guess I've been your nothing for a while now.
Now she's in your bed
and suddenly, I'm no longer in your head.
It seems I'm only on your mind
when there can be no one else instead.
People have stopped asking about you.
They used to be able to tell when I thought about you.
I think they still can.
Maybe, that's why they stopped asking.
They used to tell me to fly out tomorrow,
but now,
they're telling me I need to get laid.

Give me a reason to hate you.

I'm trying to find one now,
but when I look at you,
all I see is cocoa eyes.
And though diabetes runs in the family,
I think you're sugar free.
It's been **** near six months
and this bitter taste you've left hasn't faded,
even though you have.
It seems all signs that once pointed your direction
have turned away,
the last one being this ******* connection
that just won't fade.

I was in a car accident last month.

As the car spun, I saw your face.

I called to tell you that I loved you,

and you sent me to voicemail.

I'm contemplating cutting off ties with you.

This is how I fell for my ex.

This is how I fell for someone I thought I'd spend forever with.

This is how I made that connection,
and while our connection is so ******* strong
I need to find the static.
I might have to cut the line.
It's getting hard to face the fact there is white noise.

I don't think I love you.
But I think soon I might.

The moment I realized that you no longer loved me,
I started to notice the way the sun hit every hair on my knuckles.
It seemed that even though I was already going 65 miles an hour on a 50 mile an hour road,
it only felt as though I was going 30.
Everything around me started to slow down,
everything switched to high definition.
Usually, when I think of you,
everything else is a blur.
Usually when I think of you I see the silhouette of our future,
harsh against the doubts.
Now,
it's faint in comparison,
and I can't quite tell the difference.
You always told me that I was unlike any other girl.
But today you told me,
that you don't respond as often as you used to,
because everyone gets on your nerves.
And for me to "not be like" everyone
when suddenly I am everyone,
I realized you no longer love me.
When I got in the accident and you were the first person I called,
you sent me to voicemail.
When I told you that I loved you,
and you were the first and last person to cross my mind,
you told me you were busy.
Two weeks later and you never called back.
The idea of loving you turned from the reality it was and slid to just that-- an idea.
And yes,
I've always had a creative mind,
and yes,
I've always let my hopes get the best of me,
but you were the best of me.
You see, I've always seen you as beautiful,
some beautiful mistake.
I can't help wonder if all of this was a mistake.
When I call your name, you don't respond.
When I dream of you, it's not as clear as normal.
And yes, I said when I think of you,
usually things are a blur,
but I never thought this connection would get weak.
I guess...
I guess I thought wrong.
I always wanted to love you until there wasn't another tomorrow,
but now it seems my schedule's free;
I have no idea what's to come.
You always told me that I was unlike any other girl.
But now, I'm just like everyone else.
I'm just like *everyone.