I hope I’ll remember the time we were laying around and laughing so hard at the stupidest shit that was probably only funny because we were feeding off the energy of each other.
I hope I won’t remember how much it hurt when I told you how much I wanted it to be you, and how there was nothing you could say in return because there was nothing really to say at all.
I hope I’ll remember taking drives in your car with no destination, just for the purpose of talking about life and our messy pasts and hearts while we listened to faint the sounds of The National coming through the speakers.
I hope I won’t remember the pain when I realized that love wasn’t enough to make things work, that I wasn’t who you wanted. I hope I won’t remember the letdown of feeling strung along, even though deep down I know I wasn’t.
I hope I’ll remember the time our lips found each other’s in the dark like it was nothing at all. I hope I’ll remember wrapping myself in your arms and feeling safe, like it was where I belonged.
I hope I won’t remember the time you told me how much you tried to love me too, how you wanted to, and how it just wasn’t in your heart to feel the same. I hope I won’t remember how you told me it hurt you to hurt me.
I hope I’ll remember your gentle eyes that seemed to actually see me when I spoke, your laugh that bursts through even in the most silent moments, and your calloused hands holding mine. I hope I’ll remember what it was like for someone to just get me, for someone to see the dark spots on my heart and say they had them too.
I hope I won’t remember how sad it is to realize that two hearts can break in very different ways.
I hope I’ll remember that it’s true that love can exist between two people even if it’s not the same kind. I hope I’ll remember that there are a million reasons why we aren’t going to be together, and I hope I’ll remember that it’s really all going to be okay.