there were christmas days when we would binge watch on friends and other 90s movies while greasy take outs under the fairy lights taped on leaky ceilings and lanterns that looked out of place.

there were christmas days when we would engage in pillow fights and lie on the fake snow in your room, reading the letters we'd written each other while waiting for the carol singers to leave.

there were christmas days when we would make trees out of the pile of stephen king books and hang polaroids on decorated cactus plants and rock to simple plan's christmas list.

there were christmas days when we would make a mess in your kitchen; me, wiping whipped cream on the tip of your nose and you, force-feeding me soggy graham floats.

there were christmas days when we we would kiss under fake mistletoes and read the saddest poems on the struck of eleven and miss eating on christmas eve because, love — there were christmas days when listening to your voice and getting lost in your eyes were enough.

there were christmas days when we still would cuddle in cheap sofa beds, wrapped in ribbon and christmas lights, as if that was enough.

there were christmas days when christmas still felt like christmas, and not just another day of ripping my chest out cor my heart.

there were christmas days when we kissed and we kissed and we kissed on the dinner table and next to the fire; there were christmas days when we kissed like it was our first; and kissed, without knowing it was our last.

there were christmas days when you still loved me darling.

and there are christmas days like now, that you do not.