When You Remember Me, I Hope You Think Of This

When you remember me, I know you will remember my lingerie. I know you will remember my mouth roaming your body. I know you will remember my moans. I know you will remember my teasing.

I know you will remember when I’d put my money where my mouth was. I know you will remember how I felt beneath you. I know you will remember how I tossed and turned whenever I spent the night. I know you wIll remember the sound of my heels.

But If I could have a say in it, I’d ask you to remember what matters most.

I’d ask you to remember my laugh when you’d say something I disagreed wIth. I’d ask you to remember my raised eyebrows in answer to your ridiculous questions. I’d ask you to remember the way I could read you in the dark. I’d ask you to remember how my voice sounded when only you could hear. I’d ask you to remember the shock of tequila meeting mint toothpaste.

I’d ask you to remember how angry I could make you with so few words. I’d ask you to remember how I always fought and defied you because you never scared me. I’d ask you to remember how you felt when you looked at me as I understood you.

I’d ask you to remember my perfume and the gap between my teeth. I’d ask you to remember my snark and my wit. I’d ask you to remember me in my entirety.

But I know you.

I know you will forget me the way they always do. You will let me go as easily as you reeled me in. You will stop finding my hair in your room. You will wash me from your skin, and your sheets, and, ultimately, your memory.

But, until then, If there is anything to remember, I ask it to be this: remember how I saw you for who you truly are, and remember how I didn’t run.