We were there the night before I graduated. I remember. Somewhere on that old back road, I couldn't keep it in anymore. I turned my head and tried to hide it from you, but you knew. You always knew.
You reached over and held my hand for the rest of the drive until we ended up parked next to the lake. We put the seats back and rain began pounding on the top of the car. We just stayed here, with the music and the darkness. I couldn't speak. I was still crying. And you were still holding my hand.
I think that's when I knew.
I miss those moments. Those moments when you feel more than you've ever felt before. The overwhelming ones. The terrific ones and the horrific ones. The ones where I woke up in the middle night and got sick not because I was sick, but because my world had stopped turning and I realized I had based my future on something that wasn't going to happen. The ones where we fought and cried and stayed in the car until 3 AM until we let go of our arguments and held on to each other, then decided to drive to Steak 'n Shake even though I looked terrible and was wearing short shorts and a hoodie, but it was summer and the middle of the night and we loved each other.
Or the moment that me and you locked ourselves in the bathroom because we were in my house by ourselves and heard somebody messing around outside, so we called our youth pastor to drive by and found out it was just the boys playing tricks on us.
The one when we stepped outside the car at the drive-in and watched the stars instead of Batman Begins.
The one when you were upset, so I did what my friend had done with me and we went driving around in the middle of the night and listened to Girls Like You and got lost because I don't know my way around Farmington, but we saw a deer and an opossum and found our way back.
I hope my life is filled to the brim with them.
And I'm starting to realize that you make me feel more alive.
currently listening to: Girls Like You by The Naked and Famous