We Remember

We locked eyes across the room as I was dancing with another guy, your own hands on the back of another girl. We weren't two couples dancing parallel to each other 45 feet away, we were one couple dancing together. And we remember.

You were my friend's younger brother, and I your counselor at camp. You were 3 years younger, and you thought that we could have a chance together. You'd save me a seat every morning on the bus. Your crushed face said it all as your sister talked to me in front of you about my "boyfriend"; she didn't know that had ended months ago. But I knew. You'll never know. But we'll remember.

I was the twin sister of a guy you used to call your best friend. As time went by, you two grew apart, and we grew together. I was the girl who knew you'd never be mine. I was devastated when you told me that my texts were annoying--that you no longer wanted to speak to me. I wondered for days why you always ran with me, why you always seemed to want to linger around just long enough so that you could be there to catch me when I fell. Was it because you were the one who was always pushing me? I fell for you. You played a game. We were young, we still are--but we remember.

You are anyone and everyone, that guy who's name I never learned. The boy I saw out of my car window and dreamed about for hours later. You are the guy who got my number and never called, the boy who once wrote me a valentine in the 2nd grade. You are anyone who can capture my wanderlust heart. You are always with me, though your name and face may change. Time will forget--but we'll remember.