You said I made you smile. That your cheesy smile that made you look nineteen. God, I miss that smile.
You said I did inexplicable things to your insides. I.N.E.X.P.L.I.C.A.B.L.E. I remember how I loved the way that sounded at the time. Now I wish you had explained; I should have forced you to explain. If you had, maybe now I’d be able to make those things happen on your insides again.
You said it was the little things. Little things like what, dammit?! The way I crinkled my fingers when I waved at you? My ‘chuckle snort’? I mean, you said that was cute. Was that it?
Remember damn you!
My hair? My distracted, stern pout? My lips? The way I said your name?
Or was it something deeper?
Did you love me because we prayed together? Or because you noticed I was kind to strangers? Was it because I could play video games?
You need to remember; so you can love me again.
I need you to remember. So that I can make you love me again.

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