Of the first time I saw you.
You wore a Barcelona football shirt and
you were so tanned
and happy and didn't look at me
for a second.

Of that time in your attick
with Ed Sheeran on repeat and
we looked at eachother for hours
with our skin pressed and
our voices broken.

Of the fight we had one week before
you told me we were through.
And I catch myself thinking maybe
I should have just shut up and ****** you.

Of the trainride of two hours from
sober to what the ****
and all of a sudden it was just us
in a tent and your lips on my soul.

Of the smoking area where you jumped
me and when we kissed for the first time
and you licked my face because I laughed
at you and ran away.
(This one is ruined. The exact same thing.)

Of two weeks before the end
when you were the sweetest you ever were
and I was so happy and in love
while you already wasn't.

Of you holding my hand when you
saw me getting scared
when that crazy guy walked past us
and you never ever asked me how did he
scare me but comforted me anyway.

Of you sitting on my couch telling your friend
isn't she the cutest thing you've ever seen
and him agreeing and me making you tea.

Of you calling me snoezepoez
and making cat sounds and me
listening to them on repeat.

Of you on my birthday.
You were the only one there at twelve o'clock and
you didn't know if I was going to like it and
I fell in love right then and there.