A Series of Observations

I remember us, in every way.

I remember us young, we didn’t know then.

I remember us a bit older, falling into separate worlds, we assumed that this would happen.

I remember the day we forgot, only remembering in brief moments alone.

But I remember the day we remembered, we glanced at each other just a little bit longer than the times before, and it brought us back, I thought permanently.

I remember the day we fell, despite those separate worlds.

I remember the curls of your brown hair, and how soft it felt to my hand.

I remember your slightly imperfect smile, my heart would ache.

From the moments of closeness, the scent of your clothes lingers, my head is still clouded by it.

And what I remember most, as much as I try not to, are your blue eyes, I could never forget.

I remember every moment, every word, every stare.

And I remember how much I used to care.

But I remember the end, the way you treated me.

I remember crying on the bathroom floor.

I remember begging that I care no more.

But now, I can’t remember you, and you not me.

Because those worlds are a little more separate than before.

And someday we might glance again, but only a glance,

Because never again the same will we be.