i remember i loved you so much that i left a bowl of dry ingredients for brownies stranded in the kitchen when you asked me to come over.
and when you came home from toronto and i got off of my third or fourth shift at my first job i left early and i ran to your house.
and for your 17th birthday (before i acquired my majestic cupcake gig) i spent all my babysitting money on a worn sweater with the gucci label screened onto it. i had planned this months before we even dated, i remember thinking we were going to be so close that it would warrant me getting you a present. i had only kissed you once and had only spoken to you for two months.
and i still remember what i wore the first time we hung out (rose gold crop sweater, black jeans, brown boots) and what i wore the first time we kissed (tights, black romper, braided belt, earrings that kept falling out) and what i wore when we broke up (flats, black high waisted skater skirt, weird 90s crop bustier) and what i wore when i saw you for the first time afterwards (light wash jeans, grey knit top, pink sparrys) and what i wore when we had our end of the line fight (black jeans, purple halter top) the times i saw you after weren't overly notable, you reached out and i recoiled. you noogied me and i didn't let my friends make fun of you. and then you asked me to start coming over again (light blue jeans, navy turtleneck)
i'm not sure what this poem was ever supposed to be. i wish i remembered what i wore the night you told me that you missed me. but since you've been back, or i've been back, or we've been back i only remember what it is to be with you.
we'll keep growing.
*11:18 P.M. June/22/2014
i don't know if anyone will be able to relate to this at all seeing as it's decently specific and also one hell of a mess.