When I think of him,
I think of dark evenings around 8 p.m., of pathetic pop songs and late night Internet - stalking. Of the tears I cried when he had another girlfriend, I think about timid smiles and soft hello’s, about unexplainable, mixed signals and confusing information.
I think of the way he smiled at me, giddy, like a schoolboy, of the way he smelled and how no cloud of smoke could make him less attractive.
I think about the songs ‘Razorblades’ and ‘The Ghost of You and I’ from Story of the Year. I think about the arguments about him with my parents and friends.
I think of Sundays and eye contact during church services. I think about always having to worry about him and the time he was in jail.
And eventhough overall it aren’t happy feelings, I would give so much to have it all back