I still remember the day you gave me that box, with a letter and my favorite songs.
The next day you held my hand and the world somehow, seemed brighter and less painful.
We walked hand in hand, making the world jealous, because we had our love to hold on to.
That afternoon in April, you said you wouldn't have it any other way and that you'd stay.
And the days went by and the nights did too. Your lips on mine and your eyes on mine.
That shade of brown and the inside jokes we had, the movie night and the cold drink.
Lemon and a bit of salt, on kitchen counters and refrigerator light and background music.
And that day on the same spot, you said I was the way I was and how you had to leave.
And my heart ached and broke and I tried not to cry, because I wanted to be strong.
I never planned on changing your mind, because you were set to go even if it hurt.
And the handshake with my dad and the one hour conversation with my mom.
And remember the vodka shots and the laughs between friends and that band shirt?
It all went to waste and now I hold them close in my heart, but now I think I'm finally clean.
