Remember when I loved you?
In an awkward crowd filled with small talk, it was just the two of us. With the twinkling lights of summer reflecting in the river, I willfully leaned into the falling. Surrounded by so many strangers, what did it matter that we were yet strangers to each other? It was cool outside and you wrapped your arms around me from behind. The way lovers do when they're comfortable and safe. And at 2:30am on the couch, after talking for hours, sharing favorite books and YouTube videos, I knew it was love. Because my laugh wasn't forced and your eyes crinkled when you smiled. And you kissed me. And my soul came alive. You called me when I went out of town. I swear I listened to that first voicemail a dozen times. It had only been two weeks. But I called Lauren and told her I loved you. Just to hear myself say it out loud. I saved that message and I scroll past it from time to time in my phone. I don't listen to it anymore. I just like knowing it's there. From a sacred moment in time when I loved you.