I have been holding your name underneath my tongue since that January night. I have since chewed gum, eaten vegetables, swore, kissed, and screamed with that same tongue. Fearful that if someone should ask me your name that I would remember and then that taste of minty gum, those green beans, the f word, and my ex-girlfriends kisses and our fights would unwind and all the things your name was hiding under would be gone and I would have to give you a name, that name, his name.
And I remember going over to his place and playing pool with some of his friends, and I honestly suck at pool but I did it anyways. I remember wanting a cigarette before going over, and I never smoke regularly, but there are just some moments that you need a cigarette. It was like I knew...
I ignored your aura, and it grabbed me by the hand, just like gravity. And just like gravity, you pushed me to the ground with your arms, your words, and your hands. I hate your hands.
I remember everything, yet I remember nothing.
I remember the way your hair smelled, and the way your room was set up. I can't seem to remember the red shirt you were wearing, or the color of your green eyes.
And it almost felt like trying to look through a foggy piece of glass. Like that moment when your car windshield fogs up and you think that squinting will improve your vision, but it doesnt.
And it almost felt like when you are swimming in the ocean and you swim into a cold current. Your body reacts before your mind does and just as quick as it was there, it was over.
I remember walking home in the rain, and in that brief moment of serenity I started to cry. I couldn't tell which drops were the weather and which ones were my reality.
All I was thinking was that I have to get a move on before the sun comes up. Sunsets are comforting, and this was anything but.
And I am tired. Tired with nothing. Tired with everything. Tired with weights I never wanted to bear in the first place.