The Light We Lost

You used to be the person I told everything to —

I'd get a 96% on my test and I'd call you.

Now my messages don't even deliver.

Please please please forgive me.

I tried to forget about it,

find closure and move forward,

but your ghost is haunting me.

You're everywhere.

I see you swinging at hospital hill -

floating down the creek -

holding me in your room -

writing me words that I will treasure forever -

being so vulnerable that it hurts -

watching movies with your legs draped across my waist -

listening to sad music just to feel something -

smoking on the roof -

dropping me off at 2am on a Tuesday.

How nothing was ever ordinary with you,

how we made an adventure out of everything.

You meant more to me than you'll ever know.

I can't drive past your house

without feeling like I am choking.

How do I tell you that I am still soft for you?

That it still hurts?

Even after everything that has happened,

I just want one more untainted memory.

So let's drop the blame and remember the good parts.

Let's sit outside and laugh about nothing

or crash a castle party or smoke one last cigar.

Let's reclaim everything that we lost.

I wonder if you ever walk home by yourself

on a Friday night and get sad the way that I do.

Deep down, I know that you do —

and the thought makes me feel even lonelier.

I wonder if you ever think fondly of me at all.

Please please please forgive me.

I've had a lot of time to sit and think about last semester

and I just need you to know that I'm sorry. And I miss you.

And I wish we could be us again.

I've tried to write this a thousand times in

a thousand different ways.

None of it feels right.

There's just so much more for me to say.

Will we ever talk?