There are many ways I could choose to remember you, all as true as the next.*

You are the way you teasingly call my name when we’re playing hide and seek, *you are not the way you spit the same name when we are having our final fight.

You are the way your fingers intertwine with mine as we walk through the weekend flea markets looking for additions for our collection of useless vintage things, you are not the way you slam your fist into the wall and bruise your knuckles to stop yourself from bruising my face instead.

You are the warm brown eyes that gaze into mine as we sit on the patio sipping our coffees on the cool Sunday morning, you are not the bloodshot eyes blinded with anger that glare at me hard enough to pierce my skin like a blade.

You are the giggle in your voice as we convince the guards we were ‘just lost’ when they catch us in the forbidden areas, you are not the scream engineered to a decibel just right to shatter the glass of my heart.

You are the sigh curled around my name as we collapse onto the bed together, consumed and satisfied and happy, you are not the way you sigh with such exhaustion and finality that my breath catches in my throat as I know the only words that could come next.

You are the way you whisper ‘I love you’ under the pale moonlight when we stroll through the park and you say you can’t imagine ever living without me, you are not the way you whisper ‘We aren’t meant for each other’ when you realise that you can.

You are the way you held my hand for the first time, nervous and excited but just perfect, not the way you push mine away as you walk out my door for the last time.

You are the way you run towards me every time I come back from being away, *you are not the way you walk out my door for the last time, without ever looking back.