The more I think about the girl,
the more she becomes everything,
yet also,
the more I'm reminded she may
think of me too.

I really hope she remembers the same moments,
like her car at night, all the windows down with the red and white dash flickering across her pretty face.
Or the time we stopped at Walmart at near midnight to buy food we never even ate, just to have an excuse to talk more to each other.

Oh, so dearly close I hold those memories to my heart, but how long until I will forget them?

How long it will be before I forget her, and the silent moments where all was loud for everyone but me, where time would stop and I would see, just beautiful, everything about her, the quant passion and quiet pain.

But the more I wander, the more I realize my love for her is like a broken lighthouse on an island at sea.