My favorite moments. On replay.
You telling me your mom was an alcoholic, then looking at me, surprised and saying, “I can’t believe I just told you that.” The look on your face was flawless, like we fit together so well that you didn’t even realize it was happening.
Me, waking up to your kisses, asking me if I needed a pillow.
I looked at you at the game, held my hands above my head, and asked if you knew how I got the matching bruises on my triceps. You leaned in closer and showed me yours. They matched too. I wish I could remember that sex. It must have been fabulous.
Just like my bruises did, this too, will fade away.