Sunday, November 4, 2012
I liked you when the world decided to be ironic. I still don't understand what that word means and maybe that's symbolic of my immaturity, but we seem to mesh well together so it doesn't really matter now, does it?
I really liked you when I accidentally took a video at that concert and when you were holding that sippy cup we found at our place. Your hands looked really beautiful and you didn't hear a word in your class; which made me like you even more.
I loved you at 4:17 on a Saturday morning when your eyes hid in different places. You told me stories about things you just don't do and when it was only me. Infomercials bore witness to our Friday Night confessions.
You're allowed to call me "Em" and even though you forgot my funeral song, you can still listen to You Are The Ocean. They all mean something to me, but so do you and meaningful things belong in the same box in my head.
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