We tend to grow used to things, becoming comfortably numb. Be it the sleek polish of a brand new car, the easy intoxication of your first shot of tequila, the utter confidence while wearing new clothes, the exciting new start in a different environment or even the sheer handsomeness that is
your face.
We get excited over new things, and after a while we forget how awesome they are, breaking out of our contented complacence without valid reasons. You, for example.
I was looking through your pictures, and those of us together. I found myself once again captured by your sly smile. It brings me back to the very first night we met, and that look you gave me. It took me back to a time before our emotional confrontations, before it was us against the world, before it hit us that we could only delay the inevitable.
It took me back to perfect chemistry, and ecstatic yet warm feelings. It took me back to voluntarily participating in a (FUCKING MASSIVE) rush hour jam to spend more time together. It took me back to the smell of your car. It took me back to alcoholic kisses, saliva exchanges and desperate embraces. It took me back to lazy afternoons at Alexis.
It brings me back to the ecstasy that was you, and I. (As well as overpriced Alexis cakes!)
It's been a year. I'll see you soon.
