Remains of You

Sitting up here rows behind you, I see the collar of your shirt and immediately, I am able to sketch the rest of you in my mind. I never knew that catching a glimpse of you could still hold me captive. Guiltily captive? Those cotton checkered boxes in red and blue seem to dance me a slideshow of memory snippets I had with them. It felt light years ago. Until the part where we had to sing the song. The last time I sung it, I was standing next to you. I was accused of being late and you didn't want to talk to me- that is until I found out the patriotic side of you that memorized the lyrics to the university's song and we broke out in attacks of teasing. Should I smile now? Or am I guilty of blatantly walking down memory lane with someone else?

I find myself constantly walking down memory lane, maybe its a girl thing (which I doubt) but I have tonnes of reminders of him just hanging around me like last years' confetti that nobody wants to clean up. The perfume box is somewhere in her drawers, I saw them when I was borrowing the dumbells, the numerous cars. The blue one. The bronze one. Those would last me a few moments of silence. Then there are the moments when I hang out with my close friends, and the next few riffs of "Flowers in the window" are spent in a cluttered self-made mess or utter ignorance. Next track please.

I haven't really made myself deal with the remains of him. I just felt like stopping cold turkey. And just as I realize I'm starting to get all the warm and fuzzy feeling inside from seeing him, I recall the hurtful things he said to me right after the break-up. Works every time.