Remember that kiss in the winter snow?
The warmth of your cheek against my lips.
I'm finally letting that go,
the way you said Merry Christmas
like next year mattered, too.

Remember your fingers knotted through mine?
The lamplight on the bench was a glow.
I'm letting that go,
the way you chuckled when it was
too dark for anyone to tell it was you and me

Remember we played video games
in your basement by the coffee table, too low?
Maybe you can't let that go,
the way I beat you with a light saber
even though it was my first time playing.

Remember the way you didn't say goodbye
on the last proper day?
I want to let it go,
the way I was a coward
and I didn't run after you to be the one in the right.

Remember when you forgot a cookie box
at my house, on a day when we'd talked?
And I ran down the road to give it back to you.
(That was the last time we really spoke, wasn't it?)
Then you laughed and I laughed and we said goodbye
again, at last,
and you turned and walked to the bus station
and I let you go.