I remember what it was like to kiss you for the first time. The sharp intake of breath and my heart beating so fast, nearly out of my chest, even though I knew that that was physiologically impossible, even though I had tried to make kissing you seem so casual, so calculated, so much about shutting you and the stupid things that straight girls say up. But it wasn't any of those things, not really. It was electric. It was exhilarating, and terrifying, and crazy. It was what I had been dreaming about doing every day since you tried to unceremoniously kick me out of my crime scene. And when you kissed me back and I felt your tongue asking for more against my lips, I panicked.
I remember what it was like when you kissed me for the first time. Or maybe it was the second time. I had been so lost thinking my life could be without you in it. I had been so panicked thinking you might have been in danger. I had run to you blindly, without thought, without a plan, only knowing I needed to see you. And you, you were so stoic, so controlled so contained, until I admitted that in a rush of word vomit, that there was no one but you. You kissed me savagely then, burning my heart, branding my soul. And I knew right then that I would never be the same.
I remember what it was like to kiss you for the last time. The tears, the promises, rolling down your car window with me leaning through before you drove away. Feeling like my heart left with you in your back pocket, before I turned and drove myself to the airport. The flight, I don't remember. But knowing you were thousands of miles and several time zones away tore at the fabric of my universe. I remember your eyes, and the unshed tears, and the words we said and the promises we made. I remember the sound of your voice and the taste of your lips. And I remember the beating of your heart pressed so hard up against mine the last time we made love.
And now, for you I get on a plane and leave my world behind. For you I wait, and hold my breath and hope that you remember these things too.