Thnks Fr Th Mmrs.

Thanks for the memories.

-Fall Out Boy




I remember. It has been six months, but I remember. Just like it was yesterday. Like it was today, and I am still living this. Do you remember? Do you remember and think of these things that invade my mind? Do you?

Here we sit and I am in history and you are sitting behind me. I am very aware that you are sitting behind me. I am very aware of the fact that you can see me. You can see the back of my head, and you can see my hair, and you can see the side of my face, and you can see the expressions I make. You can see the way I hold my body in my seat, and the way I flick my pen down hard on my paper, and the way I doodle on my history notes. Can you see that I am nervous?

Because I am. I am nervous.

Sometimes I look back at you. It is a moment when it is all very obvious, and I know that, but I cannot help myself, I cannot stop myself from glancing backwards, because I know that you're there. I know you're watching me.

Sometimes I see it in my eyes. Sometimes you are a mirror and I stare into it and see a reflection of what I feel. Sometimes I see it in your eyes.

I know you remember.

It was the last day of freshman year at school. Early June, and it really did feel like it. I was tired that morning and did not want to go to school, because I knew I didn't have to. No one was making me, no one cared. But I had promised you.

I had promised you.

So I woke myself up at early early A.M. I stumbled out to my brother's beat up Chevy Blazer and we drove to school in silence, though I was playing my iPod. I was listening to Kings Of Leon, and I brought my red Gucci purse. I was wearing my brand new black dress and silver flip-flops that were already worn down from previous months.

I waited for fifteen minutes for you to arrive, and when you did, I was not even sure why I was there. But I was, and that was all I knew. I was there, and you were there.

We were there.

You led me down to the field, which I did not know as well as you did. You led me into the grass, and I followed you into the grass. My feet were getting wet because the huge, thick lawn had not been recently mowed, and weeds tangled up to my ankles. It was eight-thirty in the morning, and the air was still wet with dew. It felt nice, but had effected my feet with squishy wetness. My shoes squeaked as we walked, and I know that I blushed because I was embarrassed.

As we walked, you held my hand. It was strange, but only strange to me because it was not strange. I liked it, though I was scared, and I knew it right then. Then, in that moment when you held my hand and we walked and my feet were wet and no one was at school, I knew that I loved you. I knew then and every day before that and every day after that.

That day was too long because it was too short, much, much too short. My mind knows it well by now. I recount and I replay, and I replay and I recount, because I know that I simply cannot let this go. It is hard and I convince myself with others that I am stronger that stone, and perhaps I am right. Maybe I am stone....

It was an hour and a half before my mom would be pulling up to the parking lot, and we walked to 7-11, just because we did and we wanted to. You bought me a soda that was much too big, because I was not paying attention and grabbed the one that was not the one I wanted. I could not see the cans of soda behind the glass doors, because all I could see were the flitters of butterfly wings scraping against my side. I hated it, and I loved it, and I was blind.

You bought me Reeces Pieces. I ate half of them as we were riding in the car to drop you off at your house. I knew even then that I would be spending most of my summer there. I knew even then. When I got home, it took me an hour just to eat the rest of the candy, because I was much too nervous. You should have known me, and you should have known what I was like, and you should have known why.

You should have known.

Because I knew. I knew.