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Us. and You

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I really can't remember the last time You said You loved me.
(Voiced at least...)
It was sometime around the time when it stormed so hard that We honestly thought the rain would break right through the thin roof of Our minuscule dwelling and let the lightning dance at Our ankles.
It was before We walked along the beach in France, fingers laced together, shoes forgotten and the air was so cool, that We were the only ones there.
But it was after We sat at Our beat up upright for hours, writing that song for Our old music teacher, remembering days of past and Our perfect, yet far from blissful teen years.





I remember the last time I told You I loved you.
(In person at least...)
It was when they had You hooked up to all the machines and I was so scared. No one told me what was going on or if You would be okay or anything. So I sat next to You and told You how much I loved You.
They told me later that No, You weren't going to be okay, that You would never be. Suddenly all the empty I had left behind in high school came rushing back. I didn't feel scared anymore or sad. I didn't cry. My eyes didn't even tear up. I didn't feel anything at all.
I went back to Your room. The machines were gone and Your eyes were closed. I held Your hand, laced Our fingers together. 'Tell me a story' Your weak voice rasped. So I did.




I told you about the days when it was Us and Our and We and we never let go of each other's hands and wrote silly lyrics. I told You about Our crazy teen years, when we first met, and Our makeshift family. I told You about Our old music teacher and mentor and how he was going to play at Our wedding. I reminded You of thunderstorms and beaches and Our beat up upright, still waiting in the dusty corner of our minuscule dwelling, waiting for Us to write more silly songs with her.
(I just don't have the heart to write anymore)
(Not after you left me.)
(Not when I had to call Our makeshift family)
(And Our old music teacher)
(He wouldn't get to play at Our wedding)
(He was looking forward to that...)
No more.





There is no 'last time I told You I loved you'.
(Not to your eyes at least)
Never does a moment go by when I don't say it to myself.
Or to the world.
Or to You
you.
us.
we.
our.
When I cut through the cemetery on the way home, even though it isn't a shortcut at all. Not in the least. But I bring the flowers I got from the theater that day. you always loved flowers. I am gifted many nice flowers. I lay next to you sometimes too. I'll tell you about my day and silly happenings. Sometimes I remind you of us.
Us
We
Our
You.
.
.
Sometimes it hurts, way deep in the corner of my mind. But You were my heart, my dear. You stole my heart when You left.
(I wish You'd come back)
(I want to hide from thunderstorms)
(And lace Our fingers together)
(And write silly songs)
(And tell You I love you)
(And hear you say it back)
(And feel something)
(Again)
I miss You
No, you.

.
.
.
I love you.




I will never stop loving You
(Because I know somewhere out there)
(You're saying....)













I love You too.



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