There were flashing lights,
lasers, where we met.
There was loud music
and cheap drinks.

I found myself with the three of you,
only one of whom I'd met before.

That was the year I only wore plaid, mostly.
I was protesting make up at the time,
a leftover idea from my two year flowerchild period.
You were arrogant as ever,
self involved ****
with great taste in music.

I remember in all the conversations that followed
you'd compliment my impeccably perfect playlists.
I digress.

You stayed away from me that night,
let me hit on your friends.
But you got me that shirt.
I still wear it.

I had forgotten that night for over a year.
Even when I saw you next,
I didn't remember you.
I didn't remember you
and that has always bothered me.

I don't forget people.
I just don't.
Especially since it was both our first night out with that crowd.

You remembered me though.
And I'll never know why
I forgot and you remembered.

But now you forget me,
and I never shall forget you.
I promise you I'll never forget you.

And if you recall,
I don't break my promises to those I love.