when I think about you…

[memories from being in love]

When I think about you…

I think about cuddling in blankets and watching Clueless out of the rear tailgate of my car at a drive-in movie.

I think about sitting out front of a grocery store, asking you questions while we enjoyed our first meal together. Well, I enjoyed it. You were pissed.

I think about you laying your head on my chest for the first time. And I think about praying, at that moment.

I think about the first time you let me drive your car, sure that I couldn’t actually drive a stick, and then begrudgingly admitting that I like…could maybe shift smoother than you could. On occasion.

I think about you crying, like a lot. And how then one day it changed and you stopped crying as much, and I started crying every other day. I think about how this must have worked along the lines of your father’s rule of “needing to pass it to someone else if you’re sick.” So I think that this was probably somehow your fault.

I think about polaroids hidden in an old cigarette box.

I think about shooting things in the woods with an old-school daisy BB gun.

I think about you telling me that I never told you anything about myself. That you did not like this. And then my uninformed-in-matters-of-intimacy-self responded in the only way I knew how; to read you an excerpt from some screenplay I was half-assedly working on. That you were, understandably, not thrilled with this response.

I think about crisp baguettes and knives slashing through soft, room-temperature butter.

I think about leaning against your car underneath a solo street lamp, sharing our first kiss in its’ light, amidst the darkness that surrounded us.

I think about a picnic on a green lawn that we had to ourselves on a windy day.

I think about you getting me a cake to celebrate my last day of employment at a once-shared employer. And hiding in a refrigerator to surprise me.

I think about every single game of cornhole that we have ever played, and exactly what went wrong on each throw of mine that lead to never winning a game against you.

I think about a Saint Patrick’s day outfit.

I think about all of the food we have eaten and getting BIG together.

I think of asking you how long your cat was planning on living for. And then I think about the fact that somehow now I may have extended this by adding a new cat into the mix.

I think about after a Dodger game when you wondered out loud if AM radio was only on in the AM.

I think about whale sounds coming through the walls.

I think about back shaves and having the pleasure of conditioning your hair.

I think about a bet we made for like $50,000 that was to come to fruition in fifty years. Though, I can’t remember exactly what we bet on… was it the possibility of self-driving and/or flying cars? All I remember is I was the yay, and you were the nay.

I think about dipping French fries into in-n-out spread packets.

I think about matching toothbrushes and will-forever-be-foreign-to-me bathroom devices.

I think about bears. And how the fear of bears does not easily subside even in the middle of a fortress-like cabin made out of logs.

I think about laying out under the stars in the Eastern Sierras, counting shooting stars.

I think about the first super sick carves I ever saw you lay down on a snowboard. I think about how wonderful it felt, getting to teach you something.

I think about the most valuable thing I have ever gained and then lost in my life; your trust.

I think about walruses stacked on top of each other on a beach, and how much you hated the smell. And then I think about the story you told me about why you have an inherent fear of walruses.

I think about telling you that I loved you for the first time. And how you really needed to pull it out of me, because I was fucking terrified of saying it.

I think about how fearful I have been, and I think about how much I want nothing more than to be less afraid.

I think about how much I have hurt you, and how deeply. And I think about how you have never really ever hurt me back, as you probably should have.

And I think about the possibility of a future, with you. All the time.