I still think about him.
I still think about his dark brown eyes and dark hair. I think about our height difference and if maybe I’m taller than him now or still shorter. I think about his breath against my neck in the middle of the night, bruises being sucked on to my skin. I think about the kisses he would press to my spine. The kisses that we pretended never happened the next day.
I fantasize about how my later teenage years would’ve gone if I never left him. Would I still find his lips enticing? Would I still want to hold his hand until my shitty, cold, rancid house of Las Vegas melted from the heat on the outside?
Would I still be keen towards Pippa and Kitsey if I stayed with him. Would I no longer be fascinated and caught up in Pippa’s numbing personality. Would I still cling to her, to the person who I last saw with my mother on that day?
Would I be engaged to Kitsey despite knowingly not loving her. Doing drugs every other day just to survive a conversation with her.
Sometimes I like to think that if we were still together throughout high school, maybe things would be different. Maybe I wouldn’t be so ashamed of my feelings for him despite it being so long since I’ve seen his pale fair skin. Maybe we would’ve continued living for one another. A life so horrible due to our situations but yet so beautiful because we had each other.
Or maybe I’m just clinging onto a dream. Maybe we wouldn’t have even made it to our last year of high school, dead due to our addictions or parents. Maybe we aren't meant for each other. Maybe it was good that I left. Deep down I know all of this. I know all the answers to my questions. Or maybe I don’t? All I for sure know is that despite all of my internalized disliking's to how I am as a person, I will still always think about him and our unhealthy love with a warm feeling that aches in my chest.