My Time With Someone Knowing Our Time Together Would Expire

By

I miss you. I miss your mouth on mine. I miss the way your lips taste in between the sips of natty. The way your arm wrapped around my waist as soon as it seemed like someone was trying to make a move. The text that would say “don’t leave without me,” and then the hand holding as we would run to the Uber. For the longest time trying to make sure no one noticed. But who were we kidding, everyone did.

I loved how you pulled me in and just went for it. You gave me the best kiss, the most important kiss, that I’ve had to date. To prove to me I’m worth kissing in front of everyone and anyone, especially when I thought I never would be.

Remember the way we’d giggle in the elevator? The way I’d run my hand through my hair and give it a little toss as we would run towards your door? Your hand would be latched to mine as I’d lead the way. There were a couple times you’d lean against a wall and pull me in – kissing me the way I thought was meant just for movies.

We would “shhh” each other as we’d unlock your door, and I’d be in the middle of the room by the time you’d close and lock it. “Hi” you’d say, giving me the most intense look, after you’d already walked up to me and wrapped your arms around my waist. You’d push my hair away and give me long, romantic kisses. You’d hold me, I’d pull back, “Hi,” I’d say, smiling. Smiling at me, smiling at you. Smiling that after a week of classes and text message games we were finally alone, finally in your room. Finally right.

Kiss after kiss, quickly touching your lips and circling your face. Both of us laughing and feeling nothing but joy. You would’ve moved your hands by now, remember? Either holding mine, or trying to tickle me.

I miss how you’d hand me your jersey because you thought nothing was sexier than seeing a girl in her guy’s jersey. I miss how we’d brush our teeth trying to act normal but still giving each other the eyes. I’d run into bed as you’d try to pick me up, and I’d turn to face you as you’d kiss my nose. You’d turn on a country song and it’d play through the speakers, you’d get under the covers, turn out the lamp, and engulf me. Your arms wrapped around me, holding me tight. Kissing the back of ears, trying to pick my nose. I’d wiggle and worm trying to turn around and you’d try to put my ear in your mouth or tickle me senseless.

Remember how it was always fun? How we would be laughing through, and until, our last goodnight kiss. Not the first five, but the last one. The one after the “I promise this is the last one” one.

I loved how we would wake up and it would be the same. Your eyeball would be giant and look up at me as I would be looking at you. You’d turn me around and pull me back in, big spooning me. Kissing the back of my neck and telling me I was a creeper for watching you sleep. “No, I was noooooot,” I’d say, and you would be fast asleep. I’d turn so I was facing you, give your nose a peck, turn back around and you’d tighten your arms.

“Stay with me,” you’d whisper. I’d kiss your arm because we both knew, come May, I wouldn’t be able to.