I took our pictures down last night.
It still hurt.
After four months of not talking to you,
I decided it was time.
I had been meaning to do it,
but I had to find the time,
the heart
to actually take them down.
I tried not to look at them too much
when I would get ready in the morning
or before I would leave the house
as I passed by.
Last night,
I decided it was time.
I took the frames down from their shelves
and laid them on my bed.
I took my hand and wiped off the dust.
While doing so, my eyes scanned over our faces.
We were smiling.
We were happy.
It was us
and that was all that mattered.
We didn't need boys,
we didn't need anything.
We were best friends
and that was all that mattered.
We used to go shopping.
The antique area was the greatest.
We would walk the brick sidewalks and roads to the CD store,
the collectible store,
and even the vintage clothing store.
We passed the tattoo parlor,
and I joked about going in and making my appointment.
I almost did too.
But I didn't,
convinced it was too far away.
Only to actually get it a couple of months later.
Rides in the Jeep with the top down on the way to the private pool,
with Starbucks in the cup holder.
We talked about boys we liked,
daily events,
and had those days where we just texted song lyrics to each other.
It killed me that I couldn't tell you about my day
and I couldn't hear about yours when you called
everything off.
Now, I know it's partially my fault.
But I tried to patch it all up.
You were the one who called it all off,
without telling me.
I was left in the dust, trying.
I knew it was coming,
but I didn't want to believe it.
It was hard for me.
I couldn't talk to you everyday.
I couldn't tell you about my day nor hear about yours.
I had lost that privilege.
Four months.
It had taken me that long to take our pictures down.
Maybe I was holding onto invisible hope.
I had avoided them as much as possible in those four months though.
My hand hovered over the frame once more,
reminiscing and wishing
for those times again.
Knowing they'd never come again,
not between us,
I flipped the frames over.
I replaced the pictures and my heart ached.
Ached for the good times we had.
But it was something I had to do.
I never knew pictures could make it hurt so bad.
My day went from already ****** to even worse.
I took our pictures down last night,
and it still hurt.

She agreed to go with me to your graduation party so I wouldn't feel awkward, only knowing your two best friends.
I parked across the street and we walked up your slanted driveway.
A former student said hello to her first, before I could find you.
But you were right in front of me
wearing a blue polo, tucked into your khaki shorts and sport flip flops.
Once you finally looked up, I waited for him to finish speaking before saying, "Hey,"
You said "Hey guys," back and made simple conversation about being graduated. Others showed before you offered us food and drink and you greeted them with long hugs.
I stood, awkwardly thinking why we didn't get hugs.
You offered us drinks in the drive or food inside.
You even joked that there was alcohol in the cooler.
We could drink one as long as we didn't drive. Then you corrected it to get caught while driving after it was in our systems. I laughed and said I was the driver here and she could have one.
You laughed and pointed us to the food inside the doorway.
We made ourselves plates and grabbed a refreshment.
We made our way back to your side to say our goodbyes.
She stepped forward to hug with both arms, as you politely returned it.
Then you reached towards me, next to you, with both arms.
How I now wish I would've used both those arms.
But our position made it almost awkwardly impossible.
I reached out with my left and pulled you to my side.
You grabbed my shoulder and pulled me close. Your left arm lingered in front of me before dropping.
I believe you were thinking of turning into a two armed hug.
Now, I wish you would've. I wish I would've turned into it.
But I didn't.
You pulled my close one last time as my hand clasped your waist.
Your waist, oh so skinny.
That's what I noticed most.
The way your body felt in my hand.
It was all ribs.
It felt nice though.
It was comforting
and your body radiated towards me, keeping me company
even though it was hot and sticky out.
Oh, how I wish I could hug you again.
How I wish there was something there between us.
But there isn't.
I would be okay to be close friends with you,
getting to hang out with you more than just work.
How I wish I could be around you.