I Remember

I'm sure it was intermingled with a dream, the sensation of a touch. I have an active imagination and I'm sure
I remember more than what actually happened. I remember knots in the string I was pulling on and frayed ends of a rope. The sand under my toes was full of shells that seemed to disappear when I searched for them and footprints in the sand came from seals marooned on the shore. I breathed in sea salt that poisoned my reality and I remember the boy who never glanced at me. My joints throbbed with the burden of waves hitting limp limbs and I collapsed, becoming a meal for the always starving jaws of the waves.


The tears run down my face but I don't remember the dream.


I told everyone that night but I don't remember the kiss.


Of course the phone rang again and again. I didn't want to answer it. My second grade self cowered at the phone that lit up every five minutes. Orange light, orange light. I turned the ringer off but it just kept ringing and I couldn't do anything but watch the caller ID on the screen. I don't even remember if it ever stopped.


I remember staring at letters on the billboard and wrinkling my forehead to make out the scribbles that seemed to form letters. The incompetency I felt. The permanent wrinkles remind me, the scar on my eyelid reminds me. I look at my face and I remember.


I remember your fingers interlaced with mine as we innocently swung them down the street. Whenever I crush a soda can I remember the embellishment on your heel that you wore down the road. You asked me if I took choir and I remember you considering it. Maybe it was because of me. I remember the yearbook and potential marriage offers made in childish games. I remember the fear and I remember the absolute resolution in which you spoke. I can't remember what I was afraid of, and I don't remember your face.


I stared at you through the screen and pushed you away faster than you had crept up on me.

Hey,

I just wanted you to know,

 that I'm claustrophobic and it isn't helping that you are standing so close to me because I can feel the heat of your palms reaching out for me and I am somehow frozen by the warmth. I'm so frightened of you that I can't resist you and I'm terrified of  your capabilities and wants and needs and of you. I really can't imagine holding you for longer than a few seconds but I can't imagine life without your arms around me. The details are minor, but love is embedded within them. Like the thread hanging off your shirt. I hate that thread. I hate that dangling red rope swinging under your arm but I dread the moment when I'll have to pull it out.

I'm dreading you and your words and your sentences like I dread my AP tests. Exactly not like my AP tests are how I long for those words and can't go a day without them.

Scrutinize me and tell me I'm boring, normal, not-likable and I will stare back at you with warm eyes and willing feet. Throw me in a gutter. Tie me to a moving car. Lock me in a basement and never feed me.

Whatever you want dear, whatever you want.

Maybe it's just the love I'm afraid of.

You don't know me, but I know Love.

I only know what I've learned and I can only tell what I've experienced, but

I know Love.

Some people think he's Cupid, but

I know Love like I know Santa, or like I respect JFK.

I know Love like a friend, like a best friend. 

Sometimes we fight and sometimes we have secret handshakes, but we never forget.

I know what Love likes and what Love gives.

Love lays on worn trampolines and finds the stars even on a cloudy night.

Love will never let you go on the roller-coaster alone, even if he is terrified, of heights.

Love always remembers your birthday. Even if he pretends like he doesn't.

His favorite sandwich is whichever yours is.

When you smell Love, its like maple syrup. or Brownies.

You always know that Love is coming because a swarm of butterflies flit around him and 

reach you before he does.

Sometimes Love leaves, but he will never abandon. 

Because whenever that song comes on, it reminds you of Love, and you want to skip it, but

you don't.

Because you miss Love.

You miss Love's touch and you miss his warmth and you miss his endless excuses for being late.

Love sometimes has a bad reputation.

He likes to keep his reputation up, but Hate and Regret frequently ruin it.

Love rolls around with kittens and kisses puppy faces. 

Love always dresses like..You know. You know how Love dresses.

He always remembers to tuck in his shirt and comb his hair, but

he never smokes.

Love forces you to forget your other friends, so be careful.

Love caresses your hand and touches your cheek and respects you.

Love does not disrespect.

Love respects you and respects your values and respects your body.

Love knows your worth.

Love will send you pictures of puppies when you are sad, and

Love will put up with your crap.

Sometimes Love gets tired, but he never gives up. Ever.

Love passes in the hall and smiles even when you don't look up.

His favorite food is sugar.

Sometimes Love will ask you for sugar, but he won't accept it unless 

he knows you really want him to have it.

Love never dies and will always listen, no matter 

who you are or what you look like or even if you are black or white or asian.

A list of things Love loves:

balloons sugar cupcakes books twizzlers music lovesong simonandgarfunkle memories earphones trombones buttons matches chewedfingernails ellafitzgerald beanbags doves weddingcake lipstick clock flames whiplash stainedglasswindows nutella pretzels rosecoloredglasses homeadebread chickennoodlesoup snow airconditioning anklebraces pictureframes bicyclesandlongboards gnome 7peaks oldcameras typewriters